


A Girl Named Noah

by Hallow_Wren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Childhood Friends, Cute Bertolt Hoover, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Feedback appreciated, Friends to Lovers, Loud Sex, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Multiple Orgasms, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, reader has amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 39,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallow_Wren/pseuds/Hallow_Wren
Summary: “Wait—what’s your name?” Reiner asked. You glanced back, and saw that the others were watching curiously as well. They no doubt wanted to know who had just burst into their living quarters and caused such excitement, just as you would want to know if you were in their situation. Your eyes seemed to be drawn to the boy with the light green eyes, who looked as if he had seen a ghost. He was pale, his lips parted slightly, eyes locked onto you.“Noah. Noah Grayson,” you said, looking back to Reiner. He grinned in response, and you left hurriedly before anything gave you reason to stay any longer.The reader is a member of the 104th training corp. Shortly after the fall of Wall Maria, the reader had an accident leading to severe amnesia. She has no memory of anything before the walls fell, and the only things she knows about herself are told to her by a woman who knew her before she lost her memory. Things get even more complicated when the reader finds herself slowly falling in love with Bertolt Hoover.The reader and Bertolt have a lot to discover together.





	1. A Girl Named Noah

       You rounded the corner of the barracks, threw the door open, darted into the dimly lit room, and quickly shut it again. You heard footsteps rushing past, and let out a deep breath. Relief washed over you. You had gotten away. You turned to apologize to the rest of the girls in your barrack for your loudness, your mouth opening to speak, before it shut again. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you were met with the stares of a room full of young men. In your hurry, you had run into the wrong quarters.  
       “This… is not my barrack,” you blurted out, mentally kicking yourself for having made such an obvious statement. You imagined you must look, and now sound, rather stupid right now. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” You turned to leave, but froze in place when you heard footsteps outside. Someone knocked on the door, a man’s harsh voice barking out ‘open up!’ from the other side. You should have waited until you had a larger gap between you and your pursuers, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out how you had escaped so quickly. They must have realized you had stopped running, that you must have hidden somewhere, and that this was the only place you could have hidden in the brief time lapse before they turned the corner.

        “Coming!” One of the boys yelled— He seemed vaguely familiar. You hadn’t spoken to him before, and it had only been a day since training had started for the 104th training corps, so you figured you must have seen him in passing. You only recognized a few faces in the room, and the only people you knew by name were Eren and Jean. Everyone knew Eren and Jean, though, after their shouting match in the mess hall the night before. The boy slid off one of the bottom bunks in the back, gesturing for you to come his way as he did. You quickly obliged, about to beg him not to turn you over, when he covered your mouth with his hand. His hand easily covered over half of your face. He leaned in so close that you could almost count the individual strands of his short blonde hair. “Get up in the top bunk and lay down by the wall,” he muttered quietly, dropping his hand and pointing to the bunk he had come from as he went to the door. You nodded quickly, darting up the ladder. You blinked when you saw that the bed was already occupied, a pair of light green eyes looking up at you in alarm.

       You stared at him. He stared at you. There was a moment’s hesitation before he lifted the blanket, looking away in embarrassment, and you slid under, backing against the wall. He turned so that his back was to you. You were waifish in figure, and his frame was broad in comparison. His laying on his side in front of you was effectively hiding you from the view of the rest of the room. You held your breath as you heard the door creak open.

        There was a short conversation, spoken quietly enough that you couldn’t catch anything that was said. The door slammed loudly.

        “It’s safe,” said the blonde boy after a few seconds. You released your held breath, slowly taking another deep one through your nose, unintentionally taking in the scent of sweat and something woodsy. You blinked, frowning as a memory danced on the edge of your consciousness before flitting away again. You slowly sat up, extracting yourself from the blankets gingerly.

        “I owe you one.” You said with a nervous chuckle, heart still racing.

        “Those were soldiers from the garrison. What did you do?” The blonde boy looked like he was about to laugh.

        “Reiner,” said the boy in the bed beside you, almost sternly. You looked at him, noting the slight sheen of sweat on his skin. You must have made him terribly nervous. Your gaze lingered on his face, trailing over his features carefully. Another almost-familiar person. For a split second, you thought you might have been able to place a name to him, but the moment passed. You looked away before he could catch you staring, then climbed down the latter.

        “You won’t owe me if you tell me,” the boy named Reiner continued.

        “I think I’ll settle for owing you.” You said it quietly, feeling a growing discomfort. Your mind wandered back to the circumstances leading to this point in time.

        You had been out walking, trying to calm your mind before you went to bed in hopes of warding off your usual nightmares. You had come across some soldiers huddling around a fire, and turned to leave, hurriedly. You weren’t sure if there was a curfew, but you had the sinking feeling that you weren’t supposed to be out so late at night. As you were walking away, you heard someone bark out an order to stop, and you froze in your place. You turned and faced them, seeing disapproval in their faces.

        To your surprise, they hadn’t asked you what you were doing out so late. Instead, they asked about your necklace. It took a minute for you to realize that they were referring to the misshapen lump of metal you wore around your neck, strung on a simple cord. They asked when and where you got it. What it was made of. Something in you said that these questions were not harmless, that there was some sort of anger behind them. You reached up and tucked it under your shirt so that it was no longer visible. You said that you’d had it for years, neglecting to tell them where because you didn’t know the answer. You told them that it was just a bit of steel. You didn’t feel like explaining to them that it was a memento from a friend you couldn’t even remember. You didn’t feel like explaining that you had no memory of anything before the last two years. You didn’t want to think how you had had the story of the necklace told to you, rather than being able to remember it yourself. The look on their faces had turned from curiosity to suspicion and anger.

        That was how you found out that the use of steel only happened in military or defensive productions. They informed you that stealing even a scrap of steel was illegal, and demanded to know which production site you had taken it from. They demanded to know what else you had taken. They didn’t listen when you said you hadn’t stolen anything. “Step into the light, cadet. Let us see your face.” One man, slightly drunk and obviously angry, had demanded. That was the moment you realized that they didn’t know what you looked like, that they must have only seen a vague figure when you were initially approaching the fire. They must have seen the fire light glinting off the metal of your necklace, that they must have thought to ask to make sure it wasn’t stolen, since people often stole valuables to survive after the fall of Wall Maria. That was when you decided to run, because you’d be damned if you decided to let them end your military career before you even started it.

         Something in your posture must have told them you were going to flee. They rose to their feet and one of them stormed over and grabbed your arm before you could even take two steps. You turned and slammed your fist into his nose, feeling it shatter with a sickening crunch. He had released you and you had started sprinting.

        That was how you had eventually come to find yourself in the boys’ barracks. You feared you’d lose their respect if you explained that you’d broken a man’s nose over something as trivial as a necklace… especially one that was nothing more than a lump of rough, misshapen metal strung on a bit of cord. You absently reached up and ran your fingers through your hair, a nervous habit as you reached to feel the seam of scar tissue hidden beneath the hair. You exhaled, banishing the thoughts from your mind and dropping your hand. “Thank you for hiding me.” You said, glancing first at Reiner, then at the boy with the green eyes. He was watching you, visibly confused. “Sorry for the surprise visit.” You said, addressing the room, and started towards the door.

         “Wait—what’s your name?” Reiner asked. You glanced back, and saw that the others were watching curiously as well. They no doubt wanted to know who had just burst into their living quarters and caused such excitement, just as you would want to know if you were in their situation. Your eyes seemed to be drawn to the boy with the light green eyes, who looked as if he had seen a ghost. He was pale, his lips parted slightly, eyes locked onto you.

         “Noah. Noah Grayson,” you said, looking back to Reiner. He grinned in response, and you left hurriedly before anything gave you reason to stay any longer.


	2. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you reflect on the earliest memory you have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! This is a chapter made specifically so you can understand 'your' background. The amnesia your character experiences is vital to the plot of this story, so I figured it might be good to touch on it in its own chapter.

      Everyone was asleep and snoring by the time you were back in the girls’ barracks. You laid in bed that night, staring up at the underside of the bunk above you. Your hand was closed around the lump of metal nestled against your chest.  
      Two years ago, you woke up with a splitting headache. You remembered it the way one remembers a dream, with some details painfully clear while others remained hazy. You were in a refugee camp, a threadbare blanket all that separated your body from the hard packed earth. It was daylight out. You had tried opening your eyes, but the light hurt, so you clenched them shut again. You remembered the pain, and you clenched your eyes shut in the present day, despite the total darkness.  
      When you had finally adjusted to the light, you began to glance around, not sitting up because of the pain in your head. A woman had been sitting on the edge of the blanket, waiting for you to wake up. When she saw that you had, she began to weep. You remembered being confused—who was this woman? Where were you? She started to ramble, and you struggled to follow the train of thought. When you didn’t reply, she fell silent.  
      “Do you… do you know where we are?”  
      You shook your head, and you thought you saw the light in her eyes grow dimmer.  
      “Do you know who I am?”  
      Again, you shook your head.  
      “Do you know who you are?”  
      You paused, closing your eyes again.  
      “No,” you had whispered, and it drew attention to how dry your throat was, how thirst burned you. She hurriedly handed you a skin of water, helping you sit up enough to take a drink. She lowered you back down carefully.  
      She began to explain everything to you, at least what she understood. She told you how she had taken you in three years ago. That her name was Carol, that she had found you wandering alone outside of her home village, back in Wall Maria. She told you that your name was Noah Grayson—upon learning this, you clung to this tiny sense of identity as tight as you could, taking care to re-memorize your own name. She told you that she had no idea where you had been before she found you, that you had refused to answer. She told you about your life with her in the village, how you always seemed restless. She told you how she had always wanted a family, and that she felt that the God who had blessed humanity with the walls had also blessed her when you had come into her life. How she was so scared that you wouldn’t be able to escape when the titans came.  
       When you looked confused when she mentioned escaping, her eyes welled up, and she told you that you were both currently inside Wall Rose. She told you that Wall Maria had been breached, that the titans had taken your home away. She told you how you and she had fled on a boat, and how the disembarking process had been rough, that the crowd had swept you away and sent you off the dock and onto the rocks where the dock met the river bank. She told you how you had hit your head, how she was so scared that she had lost you. She told you she was horrified that you might roll into the water before she could reach you, that she was so thankful when you didn’t tumble off the rocks. You filled in the blanks, what she was avoiding saying—she might not have been able to take it if she had lost both you and her home in such a short time span.  
       And you, all semblance of memory gone, could not remember what had been lost. You felt an ache where the memory was supposed to be, but no pain for your own personal loss. Instead, you wept for the pain of the woman in front of you, the woman you couldn’t even remember. You had struggled to sit up, wrapped your arms around her, and wept her tears because you had no tears of your own.  
       You spent the next few days relearning yourself, but you soon found out that Carol spoke the truth when she said she knew next to nothing about your life before you had met her. She said that the only thing you had told her was about the necklace you were wearing. You had looked at her, surprised, as you hadn’t even thought about the lump of metal sitting against the fabric of your blouse. She smiled softly, and told you that she had asked about it early on, just to try and find something out about you. She told you that your face had lit up, that you had told her about a friend who had found the metal scrap and given it to you. She told you how your friend had given it to you because it was made of steel, and that he’d taught you how to find flint, because flint and steel made fire and you were afraid of the dark. She showed you an edge of the lump of steel, where the letters BHAF were scratched in, shallowly and roughly. She told you that you had been so certain that he would come and find you. You asked what his name had been, but she sadly stated that you had never told her.  
       After you had relearned the basics of yourself, you began to relearn the basics of Carol. Just when you had finally seemed to reform the maternal connection with her that you had had before the wall fell, you were parted from each other. She had been sent out with the mission to try and reclaim Wall Maria. You tried to tell yourself that somehow, she had gotten back to her village. Thankfully, your memory of the titans had been wiped clean. You knew the word and what it meant, but you couldn’t remember their vacant expressions and reaching hands. You didn’t have to think of those monsters descending upon her, extinguishing her light, because their image escaped you.  
      In the present day, you felt your eyes prickling, and became aware of tears streaking down your face. The metal in your palm had warmed to your body temperature, and the edges were making dents in your skin. You briefly wondered where you could find some flint, before realizing that you no longer feared the darkness.


	3. Balance and Bickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner seems to like you alright-- Bertholdt seems to be less enthusiastic.

         The first few weeks of training pass in a blur. By now, you have learned the names of most of the other trainees. You’ve made a few friends, although you’re reluctant to speak about anything other than the current moment. You had no plans for the future. Your past was mostly a mystery, except for what Carol had been able to tell you, and thinking about Carol was painful. The combination of these simple facts resulted in you avoiding speaking of anything not pertaining to the present day.

         A popular topic of conversation seemed to be why people had joined the military. You avoided this topic as well, since your answer was simple and selfish. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, the only reason you joined the military was because you were afraid of starving to death. You were underweight when you joined, and you had felt slightly fatigued no matter how much you slept. Now you were to a healthy weight again, and you were tired due to work instead of malnutrition. You much preferred this to the alternative.

         With no past or future to discuss with others, and with a rather uninteresting present, you didn’t talk much. You listened instead. In a similar way, you didn’t make yourself seen much. You watched instead. At this point, everybody knew about your incident with the garrison and your hiding in the boys’ barracks. To your shock, nobody seemed to think less of you for it, but instead chose to make it into a joke among the 104th training corps, in the same way that Sasha became known as ‘Potato Girl’ among your group. You had managed to sink into the background despite your first impression, much to your relief.

         You were quickly brought out of your reverie by the sound of laughter. You looked up and saw Eren Yeager learning to use the 3D maneuver gear... only there seemed to be a problem, given that he was hanging upside down. Meanwhile, several others were using the gear without problem. You watched them, nervously anticipating your own first time in the gear.

        “Noah!” Said a familiar voice, before a large hand slapped you on the back between your shoulder blades. You stumbled slightly before regaining your balance.

        “Good morning, Reiner,” you said evenly, turning and hugging the boy who had quickly gained your friendship. “Bertholdt,” you added after breaking the hug, smiling warmly for fear that physical affection might make the taller boy uncomfortable. Your eyes slipped over his features once again, as they did nearly every time you saw him. You never looked for long, but you felt as if you were searching for something there. Today, you took note of the slight almond shape of his eyes. Yesterday you had noticed the distinctive slope of his jaw. The day before that, you were drawn to the dark charcoal of his hair.

         “G-good morning.” He replied, and you grinned, looking away afterwards, not wanting him to notice your subtle examination of him. As always, you felt as if you were failing to notice something vital about him, and no examination would make you able to see what made him so undeniably familiar. When you had finally learned his name, you had been disappointed to find that it held no prior meaning to you.

          Eren was being lowered down so that he could stand again. He was gritting his teeth in frustration. Taking a deep breath, you moved forward as your time to test the gear came. You hooked yourself in, taking a few calming breaths. Slowly, they began to raise you into the air. Your balance faltered slightly for a couple of moments before your balance settled, and you grinned, giddy. After a few minutes, they lowered you back down.

**

        You decided to sit with Reiner and Bertholdt that night at dinner. They glanced up as you sat down. You rarely sat with anybody besides Sasha, Ymir, or Christa, so they were slightly surprised to see you.

        “Sasha has lots of energy these days. You guys are quieter.” You shrugged dismissively, before they could ask why you weren’t sitting with your usual table. “Or at least Bertl is,” you said, grinning at the tall boy when you used his nickname. You could see his ears begin to turn slightly pink, and he glanced away nervously. You turned your attention back to Reiner, bickering with him between taking bites of food. You glanced at Bertholdt after a while, intending to try and get him to take your side in the small argument that had eventually cropped up between you and Reiner. He wasn’t looking at you too, but instead looking across the room to where Annie and Mina sat. Mina was talking animatedly to Annie, who wore her usual look of cold indifference.

        “You should talk to her,” you said quietly. There was a small pang inside you when you said the words, but you quashed it down, having no idea why it had appeared in the first place. He looked at you, startled. “Don’t give me that look. She’s cute, I’m not judging you,” you said, schooling your expression into a grin.

         “I-it’s not like th-that, wh-what are you s-saying?” He said nervously, voice higher than usual. Your grin widened, the pang fading to a dull ache in the background before disappearing entirely.

         “Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t know.” You laughed slightly. “It’s fine to crush on—“

         “I d-don’t—!”

         Reiner was laughing, and smacked Bertholdt on the back so hard that you thought the air might have been knocked from his lungs. You winced in sympathy. “Reiner wants to marry Christa,” you said. “But then again, so does most of the 104th corp.” You continued before he could protest. “Jean practically drools over Mikasa, and Mikasa practically worships Eren. It’s normal.” You finished with a kind smile, trying to put the green-eyed introvert at ease.

          Reiner looked like the cat who had caught the canary. “So who do you have the hots for?” You felt your face flush, and he must have been able to tell that you were about to change the subject. “It’s normal, after all.”

          You glanced around before leaning in conspiratorially. Reiner leaned in as well, Bertholdt leaning back slightly and looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

          “ _Shardis_.” You whispered theatrically. They both looked at you in shock, and you kept your deadpan expression for a moment before you cracked and laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You settled back into your seat and finished the last of your soup. “I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. So I guess maybe Marco?” They looked at you and you shrugged. “He seems nice. Anyone who can put up with Jean has to be, right?” You picked up your untouched bread and dropped it onto Bertholdt’s tray. “You’re getting skinny,” you observed, noting that he appeared to have grown taller again, before standing and picking up your now empty tray. “I’m going to turn in early. See you guys tomorrow!” You smiled brightly and left, dropping your tray off where the dirty dishes were collected before exiting the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to pick up from this point on. There will be a little less of 'your' musings after chapter 4, and a lot more Bertholdt VERY soon, especially starting in Chapter 6.
> 
> Also, if y'all could leave me comments about what you think, that would be awesome! Constructive criticism is welcomed.  
> Hope you're all doing well!


	4. Look to the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about 'your' nightmares. 
> 
> Risk of slight spoilers for Chapter 87 of the manga... and by slight, I mean VERY slight, as in there's only a situation (with none of the actual characters from the manga) mentioned.
> 
> Honestly, you're probably fine to read this chapter even if you're not caught up in the manga. It's vague enough that the references probably won't really register unless you've read Chapter 87.

           There was a hand on your upper back, shoving hard, and you were falling. It felt like you were falling impossibly far, but you landed safely. Your wrists hurt from where you had been restrained, but the restraints were gone now. You blinked, looking around, and your heart flooded with terror. You had to hurry. _But why? Why did you have to hurry?_

           You knew that you were supposed to run North, they said that if you ran fast enough North that you might make it, but you had a feeling that that would mean certain death. You jogged, going North, pacing yourself, for you knew that distance was what would matter. They would wait until you were far enough away for their needs, then they’d unleash Hell on you. If they had thought you would do something besides run North, besides run somewhere where there was no chance for your survival, they would have shot you immediately. You were out of their range by now, though. No bullet could accurately reach you now. You turned and ran East, sprinting. What was coming behind you? You knew you didn’t have much time, not much time at all. You heard a sound like thunder, and you felt fear rip through you.

_They’ll go North. Instinct will take them North_. Your mind chanted this over and over again, a mantra, and you didn’t believe it, you simply hoped.

_Take who North? What instinct?_

_Is the ground shaking?_ No, it’s you. You’re shaking.

          You glanced over your shoulder, Southwest, and saw impossibly tall shapes moving North. You suspected that you were right, that you had escaped their immediate notice. They were drawn to people nearby, and failing that, they would be drawn to large groups of people further away. You were one person who was out of their immediate eye sight, and there were countless people further North. You were downwind from them, so your scent wouldn’t draw them in.

          You weren’t far enough away to be safe, but you knew that if you kept going, you would be free from them for a while. Your plan was a long shot, and you had known it was probably futile, but you were defiant by nature and had refused to play a part in their little game by running North.

_So young,_ they had said, pity had dripped from their voice, saying how sad they were that this was your fate. They had not felt pity, had not been sad.

_Who were they?_

         You hated them.

         All you had done to deserve this was to love someone. You had loved someone in the way that only the innocent can, a pure love, unconditional. It hadn’t been romantic, you had been too young to even consider it. A boy who had lived next door to you, who you walked to school with every morning. You would sneak out of your window at night when your father was drunk and screaming, then knock on his window until he opened it. You would take his hand when he offered it, and he would pull you inside. You would sob and he would clumsily pat your back, an imitation of his mother patting his back when he would skin his knee.

         He would get back in bed, barely wide enough for him to lay on his back, and would lift the blanket so you could get in beside him. He would turn onto his side as you got in, facing away from you. The familiar smell of sweat and something woodsy automatically put you at ease, after so many nights spent like this. You would fall asleep, backs pressed together as if making sure nothing could sneak up behind you. In the morning, you would laugh at whatever ridiculous pose he had wound up in during the night. He would wake up, and he would help you sneak out of his window. You wouldn’t bother trying to climb back in through your window, going in through the front door instead. Your mother knew you left whenever your father came home like that, although she didn’t know where. There was no use hiding that you had left. The only reason you left through your window instead of the front door was that it meant you wouldn’t have to pass your father. You came and went through your neighbor’s window because his parents had no idea about your frequent visits.

          You had felt pure love for the boy with the green eyes. Love that made you weep and plead with those beautiful green eyes when he excitedly told you his plans, and you had begged _, don’t leave, please, don’t leave._

          And now you felt pure hate. It bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over, and you would not plead with anyone anymore. They had sent you away where you would never see those green eyes again, or at least that’s what they thought.

          You were only a child, so you believed that you would find a way to get back and look into those eyes once again.

          And now the scene shifted, away from your desperate trek East, away from your screaming father and the bed too small for even one person but which held two. You were staring into the eyes of a shocked man who quickly ushered you through open gates, slamming them shut as the ground began to shake and a giant foot could be seen through the gap.

          You gasped awake, chest rising and falling sharply. A few of the other girls looked over groggily, grumbling, before rolling over and falling back asleep. Already, you had forgotten what you had dreamed about. You never remembered your nightmares, and you were thankful. Your subconscious mind must be very dark, you decided, laying back down.


	5. The Friend he Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Reiner have an enlightening discussion.

                Once learning to balance with the gear was over, you had moved on to putting the gear to use. A forest in Wall Rose, just outside of Trost District, was used for training, and you relished the opportunity to soar through the air. It felt like you were in your element, like you were made to fly like this. Any movement of your body could alter how you flew, and at first it had scared you. You had fallen a few times in the beginning, but now it felt like nothing could stop you. You weren’t particularly good with the gear, you were rather average, but you felt like you were more at home here rather than on the ground.

                Your mind briefly wandered to Carol during these exercises, as she had told you she loved to walk through the woods, had loved the peace within them. You liked to imagine her stepping carefully over the roots below, tucking a strand of her grey hair behind her ear. Then you would shake her from your mind when it became too painful, and you would work on perfecting your movements, seeing how fast you could go without using extra gas. You would relish the pain in your body from all the hard work, choosing to focus on it instead of the mental ache produced by the few surviving memories you had of Carol.

                Eren flew past you, trying to outdo Jean, although he’d never admit it. It had turned out that a piece of his gear was faulty when you were still in the balance testing stage, and he was surprisingly a natural when it game to using the gear. You were glad he had stayed. He was loud, obnoxious, and generally reckless, but this was where he belonged.

                You saw Bertholdt in your peripheral vision and smiled to yourself. You altered your course slightly so that you were training basically side by side. “I’ll race you to the end of the course?” You looked over at him, grin widening, and you saw him look over at you as well before you both quickly put your attention to finding your next anchor target.

                “Okay,” You could hear the hesitance in his voice.

                “Don’t you dare hold back!” You yelled, and you sped off.

 

*********

                By the time you reached the end of the course, you were elated. You finished just ahead of Bertholdt, and you couldn’t stop grinning. Using the gear always gave you such a rush, and you were always euphoric by the end of the training. You laughed breathlessly, landing on the ground a split second before him and stumbling slightly. Your giggles increased when he reached out and gripped your shoulders to steady you, only to quickly let go the moment your balance was back.

                “Thanks,” you breathed out, before you playfully shoved at his shoulder. “You let me win on purpose, you jerk.” He smiled sheepishly, muttering an apology. You both started to walk back to the military compound, parting ways when you had to go to your respective barracks. You tried to forget the look on his face whenever you interacted with him—as if he were only tolerating you. When he had steadied you earlier, he had pulled away as if he had been burned the moment you regained your balance. You had hoped your little race earlier might have warmed him up to you, but it obviously hadn’t. The walk back had been silent, despite the friendly nature of the interaction before. It saddened you, as you rather looked forward to his company. He obviously didn’t enjoy interacting with you, and you wondered what you had done that had put him off.

                You stepped into your barracks, sighing into the silence. You were the first to return to the barracks, aside from Annie and Mikasa. Neither of them were speaking, which was nothing new. They were both quiet by nature, and you didn’t mind. You walked to your bed and sat down, beginning to remove the gear from your body. You hissed in pain when you fumbled with the belts of the gear. You were used to having bruises and welts from the belts, and the stinging and sensitivity normally didn’t bother you, but you found removing the gear to be particularly painful. Once you were freed from the contraption, you stored it under your bed. You grabbed some essentials from your bag, then left to go to the showers. After you had cleaned yourself and dressed in your casual clothing, you returned to your quarters and collapsed on your bed, trying to ignore the chatter of your dormmates—more had arrived while you had been away, although you were relieved to see that most of them were grabbing their shower things before leaving. _Perks of finishing training early—peace and quiet_ , you thought with more than a little satisfaction. They filed out, leaving you essentially alone again.

                You genuinely liked most of the girls in your barracks, but you were never quite at ease when they were around. There had been many factors leading to your preference for solitude. The first was that Ymir had informed you that you talked in your sleep, and apparently had vivid nightmares—you never remembered your dreams, but it seemed like the girls all looked at you strangely when you first woke up in the mornings. Another issue was that you all dressed and changed in the same area, but you detested being even partially unclothed in front of them after one of the girls had gasped in shock at your scars. A myriad of intrusive questions had followed suit. You couldn’t remember how you had gotten your scars scattered across your body, and you were in no hurry to remember, but you saw no reason to tell her that. You had shrugged her off, muttering something along the lines of being overly adventurous when you were younger. Technically, this was probably true, since you gathered from Carol’s stories that you had been on the move for quite some time before you met her. It made sense to assume the scars would be from your time spent on the road. The girl had looked ready to continue her questioning, but something in your expression must have warned her against pressing the matter.

                You preferred solitude not because you disliked people, but because you were worried of how they would treat you—what would they do, if they knew you had next to no knowledge of your life? You didn’t want to find out. It left you feeling quite lonely, even if loneliness is what you had chosen.

                It was times like these when you missed Carol the most. You made the conscious decision to give up your false hope that she had somehow reached her village again. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. The only person that you remembered loving, the only person that you knew had loved you, had probably died an excruciating death. There wasn’t even a grave that you could visit to pay your respects to her. She had deserved more than this.

                It was at this moment that your plans for the future fell into place. You felt a cold rage beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. You may not have been able to bury Carol, but fighting against the thing that had killed her would be the next best thing. You would give your life if it meant that just one Titan was removed from this world, that at least one of them would no longer be able to hurt anyone ever again… and you were determined to take down as many of them as possible.

                You decided in that moment that you would join the Survey Corp.

*******

                That night at dinner, you sat down with Reiner and Bertholdt again. You were determined to develop a friendship with the introverted boy, just as you had with Reiner. Reiner smiled when you sat down, and you grinned in response. Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and you looked at him. “Just so you know-- you owe me a rematch, since you threw the race earlier.” He nodded stiffly. “You’re really good with the gear,” you added, trying to ease his nervousness. It didn’t seem to work, so you focused your attentions on Reiner. _Why do I have to make him so… this?_ You found yourself thinking bitterly, even as you and Reiner chatted about training that day. He thought the race you two had had was a good idea, stating that it would be good practice. He mentioned off-handedly that he was going to be doing extra training outside the mandatory sessions. You all occasionally got days off from training, and he informed you that he would be using a few of those days solely for the gear.

                “Over-achiever,” you teased. “Mind if I come too?”

                “Sure,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. You looked at him questioningly, sensing that there was something else on his mind. “But why?”

                “I want to get better with the gear,” you said simply. “And I’d rather not ask Kirstein for help.” Jean had been increasingly pleased with his skill with the 3D maneuvering gear. He was quite talented, you had to admit, but you disliked his inherent smugness.

                “Yeah, but why do you want to get better? Going for the top ten?”

                “Hardly,” you said with a grimace. Truth be told, you were going to purposefully avoid gaining a spot that high in the ranking. You knew that only the top ten graduates could go straight into the Military Police, and you had no desire to join that branch of the military. No, you would leave those spots open to people with higher ambitions than your own. You knew you were going into a place where ranking would not matter. “I just need to get stronger, don’t want to die on my first day out there.” There was a small silence from the two boys across from you.

                “Out there…?” Bertholdt said quietly, almost as if the air was being squeezed out of him. “You don’t mean the Survey Corp, do you?”

                You looked at him, surprised. “Yeah, I do.”

                “We figured you’d go for the garrison,” Reiner’s voice had none of its usual light tone. You shrugged casually, trying to ignore the sudden tension that had sprung up in the air. The silence seemed to stretch on for a small eternity, and you felt your face and neck grow hot. You couldn’t quite meet the eyes of the other two, feeling as if you had somehow betrayed them. You took a long swig from your drink to cover up your growing unease. “You can train with me whenever you want,” he said finally, although the tension didn’t lessen.

                “I’m g-going to go to b-bed early. I-I’m a little t-tired.” Bertholdt grabbed his tray and stood. You looked up at him as he left. _He’s beautiful_ , you thought, before you mentally shook yourself. He was joining the MPs, and you were running off into titan territory. You only had a little under 3 years left together, and it would do you no good to get attached to him in that way. You wanted a friendship, and only a friendship. You turned back to Reiner once he was gone.

                “Reiner,” you began slowly, unable to keep the frustration and hurt out of your voice. “Why doesn’t he like me?”

                Reiner looked at you, frowning. “You think he doesn’t like you?”

               “It seems that way, yeah.”

               “He likes you a lot.”

               “Then why does he act so…” The only word you could think of was ‘distant’, but you opted to leave the sentence unfinished instead. You settled for gesturing at the place where he had been sitting, making it clear you were referring to his behavior right before he left.

               “You remind him of a girl from our hometown.” Reiner crossed his arms in front of him, looking at you as if appraising your reaction before he would continue.

               “Is that a bad thing?” You were upset by the idea that he might be taking out his anger at somebody else on you.

               “No. She was his best friend.” You felt your stomach drop when you realized he used the past tense to describe her. “She died about six years ago. They were only eight years old.”

               “Oh,” you said lamely. You felt shame build inside you at the idea that you might have inadvertently hurt the green-eyed boy.

               “We thought she might have run away. Her home life was pretty bad. We hoped she’d left home. Then we found out that she died from a disease that had been going around. Her parents buried her immediately to keep it from spreading.” There was a pause as you began to process what he was saying. “You look just like her. Same hair, same eyes. You’re probably what she’d look like, if she’d lived. Hell, he thought you were her when you showed up.” He prepared to leave, standing and picking up his now empty tray. You reached out and put your hand on his forearm, trying not think of how much pain you must have caused Bertholdt. Reiner froze in place, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

               “I… I can’t be the friend he lost.” Your voice was shaking. “I’m not going to try to be. But… But I would really like to be his friend, if I could.” You had to force yourself to meet Reiner’s eye. Your cheeks flushed, and you released your light hold on his arm.

“Give him time,” was the only response you got before he left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	6. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, there's a brief scene towards the end that involves child abuse. I'll mark the start and end of this section by creating a line of ------------------------- before the start of that scene and then again once it has ended.

                Hand-to-hand combat training… you had been dreading this. Something in you recoiled at the thought of having to fend off a fellow human. A few of the scars on your body seemed to tingle at the thought, and you wondered how many of them were gifted to you from people.

                You were all supposed to be practicing fending off a ‘rogue with a knife’, as your instructor had put it. You had all paired off, taking turns wielding the wooden knife. You had intended to pair off with Sasha, Christa, or Ymir, but you quickly saw that they were all paired off. Sasha and Connie were ‘working’ together, striking overexaggerated combat poses, and you briefly wondered how long it would take for them to get caught. Christa and Ymir were working nearby, and you chuckled as you realized that Ymir was purposefully going easy on Christa.

                You looked around, searching for a partner. Marco noticed, and called to you. “I’m working with Jean, but I think Bertholdt needs a partner.” He gestured in the direction of the tall boy, who met your gaze and nodded hesitantly. You quickly thanked Marco, before you both met somewhere in the middle. You swore you could see the moment he broke out in a sweat.

                “Do you want to go first, or should I?” You asked, sounding calmer than you felt as you held up the wooden knife in question.

                “Y-you go first.” He seemed to be mentally preparing as you both took a few paces back so that you could begin practice.

                “O-okay,” you said, no longer able to keep the nervousness out of your voice. You waited until you were both ready, then lunged forward in a run. He blocked you, albeit with some difficulty, taking the knife from your hand and throwing you off balance as the instructor required. You regained your footing before you fell all the way to the ground, and you grinned up at him. He looked surprised at your strength, and you were a bit surprised yourself—you had put up a decent resistance during the exercise.

                “It’s, uh, it’s your turn.” You said dumbly when he didn’t move, and you both moved to get in position. He looked down at the knife, then back to you.

                _Yep, he’s definitely gotten taller_ , you thought to yourself grimly. Your breathing picked up in fear, and he began to run forward, reaching you seemingly impossibly fast. You reached up to block him, taking the knife. When it came to sending him off balance, however, things got a little more complicated. You managed to set him off balance just fine, and he fell into the dirt with a quiet thud. The problem arose when one of his legs somehow managed to tangle with your own, accidentally taking you down with him. You landed half on top of him, still clutching that stupid fake blade. You were stunned for a moment, but once the shock wore off, your cheeks flushed bright red.

                “S-sorry, I-I-I’m sor-sorry!” he blurted out, obviously struggling between his desire to get off of the ground and his fear of somehow injuring you by doing so. You rolled off of him, immediately leaping to your feet. You extended a hand to help him up, and he took it, not looking you in the eye as he rose to his feet.

                You giggled. You couldn’t help it. The giggle became a laugh, and the tension was broken. He looked shocked at your reaction at first, and you apologized the moment you had control over yourself again. You were acutely aware of your burning cheeks. “Are you okay?” You finally asked. “I didn’t hurt you when we fell?”

                “N-no! I mean, I-I’m fine.” He clarified. You both returned to practice before the instructor could catch you slacking off. The exercise went smoother after that point, and it wasn’t long before you were both enjoying the practice. You were both covered in dirt and sweat by the end of the session, smiles on your faces as you left the practice area.

                “We should work together more often,” you said happily, attempting in vain to dust your uniform off.

                “Yeah, we should,” he replied, smiling to himself. You were pleased to notice that he didn’t stutter when he agreed. You glanced at him, taking in the small smile on his face.

                _So, so beautiful_ , you thought, feeling a rush of heat go to your cheeks. You looked away quickly, worried that he would catch you staring. You parted ways to go back to your barracks.

                You went to the showers, mind wandering back over the day’s events, smiling dreamily before you shook your head as if trying to dispel the thoughts, focusing instead on getting clean. Afterwards, you changed into your casual clothes. You picked up your uniform and left to go wash it, mind in a happy daze the entire time.

**

                You sat down next to Sasha, across from Ymir and Christa. Sasha was shoveling her food down, as usual. Ymir was making fun of her, and Christa was telling Ymir not to be so mean—also as usual. You smiled slightly, listening to the bickering and eating your food. Sasha finished hers in record time.

                “I thought Shardis was going to tell Connie and I that we wouldn’t get dinner tonight.”

                “Oh, so he finally noticed that you two were too busy goofing off to train?” You asked, smirking.

                “We were training!”

                “Uh-huh. What was that move you were doing? The one where you had your arms up and the knife in your mouth? I’d be VERY interested in learning about that technique.” You said with a grin. Your tablemates seemed almost surprised, and it took you a minute to realize why. You weren’t usually talkative, but rather sat and listened instead. You felt almost shy upon realizing this, and tried to ignore the feeling.

                “Oh, well, it doesn’t really have a name, exactly…” She began, embarrassed. You glanced up as Reiner occupied the seat on Christa’s other side, Bertholdt sitting down next to you. You glanced at them, smiling in greeting. Christa seemed happy by their appearance, but Ymir was noticeably less pleased, eyes narrowing when she noticed how friendly Reiner was towards the small blonde girl.

                “Feeling social?” You asked Bertholdt quietly when you noticed that the others had gone back to their (mostly) playful arguments, this time over who was Christa’s favorite. Sasha was siding with Ymir, obviously trying to keep on the other girl’s good side. Christa sat in the middle of it, not quite sure how to react to this.

                “R-Reiner wanted to visit Christa,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

                “Ymir looks ready to fight him,” you said, turning your gaze back to the others. The petite blonde looked honestly alarmed, caught in between the two people competing for her attention. You knew that Ymir didn’t take kindly to people trying to interfere in her and Christa’s relationship, although you doubted that that was Reiner’s intention. Ymir clearly read it that way, however.

                “Reiner would win,” Bertholdt said, certainty in his voice.

                “In a normal fight, maybe. But a fight with Ymir when Christa is involved?” You didn’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice. Bertholdt didn’t disagree. The two of you fell silent, listening to the others rather than getting involved at this point. After a while, you debated on whether to leave or not. You didn’t want to risk leaving and ruining the tenuous friendship you felt finally beginning to grow between you and Bertholdt, but you were also quite tired. You also had a growing discomfort when the argument didn’t calm down. You glanced at the tall boy beside you, noticing that he was also uncomfortable. “I’m going to go to bed. Want to walk back with me? I’d enjoy the company.”

                He looked at you and nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave. You both stood, grabbing your trays, and leaving while the others were still distracted. You didn’t talk on the way back, just walked in companionable silence. It wasn’t awkward, and it felt comforting somehow.

“Goodnight,” you finally said when you reached the point when you split to go to your separate barracks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

                “Yeah—I think we’re going back to the gear tomorrow. We can have our rematch then.” You were shocked at how happy this simple statement made you. Yes, you were definitely starting to develop a friendship with the tall boy.

                “You’re on,” you said, smiling into the darkness, as you both turned away and left for your respective beds.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                There was a bottle in his hands, and he reeked of alcohol. It burned your nose, and you retched. This was not his first bottle tonight, not even close. You had nowhere to go to get away from him, not this late at night, so you gritted your teeth and loaded a plate with food for him. You handed it to him, careful not to look in his eyes, fearful that even the small action would provoke him. You fixed your own plate afterwards, making sure to take as little as possible. You would come back for more later, once he was passed out.

                You and your mother ate in silence while your father spoke nothing but hate. You took his empty plate when he was done, going to wash it in the sink. It was summer, and it was hot out. You were wearing light wear clothing, but you were still sweating from the heat. Cooking earlier had made the room hotter, and you were dazed.

Your father said something to your mother, and your mother responded fearfully. You couldn’t seem to process what they were saying. You tensed, knowing that she was trying desperately to shift the weight of your father’s blame to somebody else. That somebody was almost always you, since you were readily available. You hated the pair of them.

                Your father launched a bottle in your direction, and it landed at your feet. It exploded when it hit the floor, bits of glass finding their way into your feet and legs. You cried out. You ran to the bathroom, leaving the rest of the dishes where they were, and locked the door behind you. You pulled out your mother’s tweezers from a drawer and began to pluck the shards from your legs. You kept blinking the tears from your eyes—you needed to see what you were doing. Nobody would help you fix this, so you needed to be sure you did it right.

                You searched in the closet, finding strips of linen bandages that you and your mother had cut from old sheets. You wrapped your wounds, then snuck out of the bathroom and into your room. Your father was still yelling in the other room. You waited a minute, then made a split-second decision. You opened your window and climbed out. You walked the few feet between your house and the house next door. You tapped on the window, quietly. A boy’s face appeared behind the glass, peering out at you in shock. He opened the window, eyes wide.

                “Can I come over?”

                “Now?”

                “Yeah,” you said, nodding frantically. He hesitated, then saw your bandaged legs. He nodded, reaching out to help you climb into his room. After that, you fled to his window every time you heard your father come home…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

                You woke up the next morning to the annoyed glances and whispers of your fellow barrack mates. One of the girls seemed ready to complain. You must have had nightmares again. Christa came over and started talking to you, checking to make sure you were okay. You caught a glimpse of Ymir glaring around the room, daring anybody to say anything. You knew Ymir didn’t care about you—she cared about Christa, and Christa had taken it upon herself to check on you.

                You didn’t say it, but you found yourself grateful for the friendships you were slowly but surely developing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, criticism and opinions are welcomed.


	7. Practice and Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a day off from training-- so how do you spend it? With more training, of course!

               You were grateful when you finally got a day off from your military duties. Bertholdt had won your rematch a few days ago with ease, far ahead of you now that he wasn’t holding back in the competition, and you were determined to get some extra practice in so that you could catch up to him. You didn’t like feeling weak, although you tried to look at things logically—Bertholdt was one of the best in the 104th training corps, where as you were about average as far as skill level. He out performed you in that setting because he was talented with the gear, not because you were bad with it.

                Last night at dinner, you had sat down with Reiner and Bertholdt and planned the training day you had agreed to. You would meet at 10 AM in the forest for training with the 3D maneuver gear, then train until you all ran out of gas. Afterwards, you would return to the compound, do a short run, and call it a day.

                Since you were meeting at 10 AM in the forest, you decided before going to bed that you would try to wake up around 9 AM so that you wouldn’t have to rush around in the morning to get ready. You figured that this way, you would be a few minutes early. Life had other plans.

                You awoke with a start before the eastern sky began to lighten, surrounded by utter darkness. This was the second time during the night that you had done this, and you heard a few of your fellow dormmates shift and grumble in their sleep. You decided to cut your losses and get an early start instead of trying to go back to your uneasy sleep. You slipped out of bed groggily and dressed in the dark. You grabbed your gear from under your bed and carried it outside. You elected out of trying to put the complicated system of belts and buckles on while in the dark room full of sleeping girls, afraid of the components clinking and thudding loudly enough to wake the others up.

               Only once you had stepped outside did you begin to strap yourself into the gear. You made sure that everything fit comfortably before you started to walk. You saw no harm in going on to the forest now, and you felt restless from staying within the boundaries of the compound for so long.

              You liked mornings, you decided. Or rather, you liked mornings when you were left to your own devices. As the sun finally began to peek over the horizon, the birds began to awaken. You could hear them beginning their day, just as you had begun yours. They added their voices to the calls of cicadas.

              Something stirred on the edge of your mind. It was a profound déjà vu, and you tensed. You looked around frantically, adrenaline spiking through your veins. _THEY are awake, THEY are coming, have to go, now, before they catch up, before they can move again—wait, who?_ You physically shook your head to remove the intrusive thoughts, the irrational and sudden panic. The birds’ song seemed to be a warning call in your frightened mind-- _get up and start moving, and you might live_. Every slight sound set you on edge. You closed your eyes, tightly, listening for something. For what? When nothing but the same sounds as before reached your ears, you opened your eyes again and forced yourself to keep walking.

              You were safe, so what had that feeling of terror been? It occurred to you that this wasn’t a new fear, as you suddenly realized that you usually woke up when the sun was rising every morning, and that you were usually in some sort of panic when it happened. You always had nightmares, and they woke you up a lot, but you never once slept past the point when the sun began to rise and the birds woke up. You wondered what had happened to make you feel this—then immediately wondered if it wasn’t better that you couldn’t remember. It was obviously something bad, or else you wouldn’t be so scared. You hated discovering these ‘new’ pieces of yourself, as they were things you should have already known about.

              You reached town and breathed a sigh of relief. The market stalls were just beginning to open up, and the streets looked less lonely. They looked safer, somehow, now that you saw all the people wandering around in the open. It somehow broke the spell you had been under. You took a minute to just watch the townspeople, waiting for your heartbeat to slow down before you continued your walk.

***

              The forest was alive with sound. You took a minute to adjust to it, how it felt almost forbidding now that you were alone again. There were no fellow cadets whizzing around the trees, no voices filtering through the woods as you all taunted and teased each other into trying harder.

 _Carol found this peaceful_ , you reminded yourself forcefully. You focused on that thought for a long time before you finally stepped into the tree line. You felt as if there was something you had to do, and now was as good of a time as ever. You still had a couple more hours before you were supposed to meet with Reiner and Bertholdt, so there was plenty of time.

               You searched for a good place, and settled upon a space in between the roots of a tree in the middle of the forest. It was out of the way, where nobody would trip over it by accident. You memorized the spot and began to scour the forest floor for stones.

                **

                You knelt on the ground in silence at the foot of the tree, gazing at the small pile of stones you had stacked in a rounded mound—it was called a cairn, if you remembered correctly.

                “Noah?” You heard your name being called from far away, but you didn’t seem to register it. You took a deep breath, feeling it fill your lungs in a sharp gasp before it left you in a shuddering hiss of air. You hadn’t been able to bury Carol, and you weren’t able to join the Survey Corp yet, so you needed a way to put your thoughts of her to rest. Creating a memorial, even one so humble and unassuming as a small pile of stones, helped you to do that. _Carol found the forest peaceful, and maybe I can, too,_ you told yourself.

                “Noah?” You heard the voice again, and this time it seemed to shake you from your daze.

                “Bertholdt?” You called back, surprised. How long had you been here? His voice had come from nearby. Sure enough, he stepped into view a few moments later. You looked away, back to the cairn, and quickly dragged the back of your hand over your eyes. _I didn’t realize I was crying… hopefully he didn’t, either._ You stood and dusted yourself off. “Is it already 10? I’m so sorry, I must have lost track of time.”  He shook his head.

                “It’s around 9, maybe 9:30.” He replied. Reiner stepped out of the trees behind him.

                “One of the girls said you were gone before they woke up,” the blonde boy added on as an explanation. You felt your cheeks flush when you realized the quizzical look on his face. You wanted to duck your head in embarrassment when his eyes found the smile pile of stones behind you.

                “I woke up early,” you said with a shrug. “Saw no reason to wait around in the dark.” You saw Reiner’s eyes flick back to the stones, and saw that Bertholdt was looking at you with a look of confusion. “It’s for Carol,” you blurted out.

                “Carol?” Bertholdt asked, looking confused.

                “Carol.” You said simply. “I guess she was kind of my mom,” you added for clarification. “I, ah, I didn’t get to bury her. She was part of the group sent out to reclaim Wall Maria, so… This is the next best thing.” You saw both of them tense slightly, and you cringed, realizing that they had likely lost people as well. This was probably bringing up some bad memories.

                “Noah, I’m r-really sorry,” Bertholdt said quietly, and you shook your head.

                “Forget about it.” You schooled your features into a smile, although even to you it felt stiff and sad. “Should we get started?” You asked, gesturing towards the 3D maneuver gear strapped to you. “I’m never going to beat you in a race, but I’d like to be able to keep up.”

                “Sure,” Reiner said. Bertholdt just nodded, and you saw that he was perspiring in his discomfort. You all immediately began your practice after that, as you had all silently accepted that none of you were particularly good with dealing with emotions. You realized that this was their way of comforting you, how they immediately respected that you didn’t want to talk about it. You also found that it warmed your heart that they had come looking for you here upon learning that you had left early. They must have been worried about you, or else they would have just showed up at 10 AM like planned.

                All three of you worked on simple maneuvers for a little while. Reiner called out to stop sooner than expected, much to your surprise. “Noah, race with me. Bertholdt, you follow along behind us and watch.” The taller boy nodded, frowning slightly. You agreed with a nod of your own.

                Your race was short lived. Reiner, unsurprisingly, beat you. Bertholdt caught up to the two of you, where you were both leaning against trees and breathing heavily. You were breathing far heavier than Reiner, much to your annoyance.

                “Y-you’re not using enough g-gas, Noah.” Bertholdt said the moment he caught up. You looked at him.

                “That’s why you’ve been having trouble.” Reiner said this as he walked over and checked your gas levels, laughing slightly. “You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt, using the equipment like this for so long.”

                You felt your cheeks flush at the simple mistake. The three of you agreed to another race. Although you still came in last, you finished only moments behind them. You couldn’t believe the problem had been something so stupid, and so easily fixed. The rest of practice went by with ease after that.

                You ran out of gas sooner than expected, so you all began your walk back. Once you reached the compound, you agreed to run two laps around before stopping for the day. You stopped at the edge of the property, taking a minute, before you all broke into a run. This, you noted with a grin, was where you excelled ahead of Reiner and Bertholdt. They were better than you in the air, but you were better than them on the ground. Despite feeling more at home in the air, where even the slightest movements made all the difference, your strength laid in running.

                Carol said that when she had first met you and convinced you to stay with her, you would run every day for hours. She had thought you’d ran away on more than one occasion, only for you to show up again at nightfall carrying a basket full of wild berries or nuts. Apparently you had discovered a few places where these things were abundant while on your runs, so you would take it upon yourself to find those places again later to bring some of their resources back. After a few times of your spontaneous disappearances, she had learned to check if all her baskets were still there. You couldn’t even remember those days, but you missed them.

                When you all finished your run with Reiner and Bertholdt, you were able to calm your breathing almost immediately afterwards. It had only been a short run, after all.

                “Up for another lap?” You asked with a smile, enjoying the endorphins that had been released by the exercise.

                “You realize it’s a day off, right?” Reiner asked with exasperation in his voice. You grinned in response, deciding not to press the matter.

                “I know, I know. Thanks for working with me today,” you said, slightly embarrassed at having taken their time over such a simple issue.

                “No problem!” Reiner said, slapping you on the back roughly. You stumbled forward.

                “Reiner!” Bertholdt admonished, catching your shoulders and setting you back on balance.

                “Thanks, Bertl,” you muttered, now thoroughly flustered. You looked up at him, craning your neck so you could look him in the eye, and offered him a small smile. His face was flushed, presumably from running. He dropped his hands from your shoulders after a second, hurriedly, as if he had forgotten he was touching you.

                You all said your goodbyes, as they were going back to their barracks while you were going to go for another lap or two around the compound. You watched them leave, laughing slightly when Reiner turned and said something to Bertholdt before slapping him on the ass. They were far enough away that you couldn’t hear what was said, but you were still able to hear poor Bertholdt yelp. You started to run with the image in mind, and found yourself wondering what Reiner could have possibly said to accompany his actions.

                You decided you’d like to run like you had in the days Carol had told you about, and that maybe you could once you graduated and didn’t have such a strict schedule. There wouldn’t be such a stringent schedule once you joined the Survey Corp, especially in between missions. Your mind wandered back to the forest, to the cairn you had made there. You didn’t know what Carol would have said about all of this, but you hoped that she would have been proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't include this in the chapter because it would mess up the pacing of the fic if 'you' heard it, but what Reiner said to Bertholdt as they were walking away, immediately before the ass-slap, was something along the lines of 'nice going'. 
> 
> Also, if this chapter has any typos or seems like the pacing is a little different than usual, I haven't had the time to proofread as much as I usually do. It's been a crazy week!
> 
> Thoughts, comments, concerns?  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. A Split in the Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a very short 'bridge' chapter. Things go a bit crazy in the next few chapters... I've honestly struggled to write this chapter simply because it's not plot centered and is really more to denote a time skip, so I settled on making it shorter than usual.

  
        Three years passed in a haze. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. You loved every second of it, time spent among friends. As you felt it drawing to a close, your heart sank. Many of you would be parting ways once you graduated. You realized, with a dull pang, that you would likely never see many of them again. You rolled over in bed, staring up at the underside of the bunk above you. All of the other girls were still asleep, and it was still dark out. You debated going for a run, but you found that you had no motivation to get out of bed at the moment. Your hand came up to the cord around your neck, pulling your necklace out from under the fabric of your shirt. You clutched the lump of metal, running your hand over the initials, BHAF, carved there.  
        Your mind wandered to Bertholdt, as it often did these days. Memories flooded through you.   
**  
        Your heart was hammering hard against your ribs. You looked up at the boy who towered above you, carrying you in his arms as he ran. You wanted to tell him that his stride was uneven, or that the way he was timing his breaths would give him a stitch in his side. You wanted to tell him that when he smiled, his eyes were the same color as the surrounding forest. You wanted to tell him that you liked how he stuttered when he was nervous, that you liked the timber of his voice.  
        You took a moment to remind yourself that this wasn’t real, that this was only a training exercise. He was holding you as if you were dying, running as if time was running out, and you realized with no small amount of shock that there was a lot that you wanted to say to him. He reached the small area where Shadis waited and criticized every action taken.  
        Bertholdt laid you down on the ground and began checking your vitals. Your face grew hot as you made eye contact and you had to fight down a chuckle.  
“You’re supposed to be dying…” he reminded you, and you grinned but remained silent.  
        The exercise ended with Shadis informing the two of you that while you made it to the end of the transportation part of the exercise with time to spare, he needed to practice checking vitals, as he was too slow in that part of the exercise. Apparently first aid just wasn’t Bertholdt’s thing.  
         You sat up and readjusted your collar from where he had moved it aside to check your pulse. You thought of his fingertips as they had trailed towards your pulse point, how warm his skin had been against your own. How much you enjoyed the contact.  
         It was at that moment that you realized you were in trouble.  
**  
         “Noah, are you back here?” Reiner’s voice carried through the trees surrounding the lake.  
         “Yeah, but—“ you sighed as he came into view, Bertholdt behind him, and you were thankful that you were submerged up to your neck in water. It had been a scorching hot day, and you had just finished training a little under an hour ago. Instructor Shadis had put you all through some rather difficult drills today, and you were taking this time to cool off and soothe your aching muscles.  
         “Do you want to go to town with us tomorrow?”  
         “Sure.” Your answer was met with silence, and you sighed quietly. “You guys do realize I’m naked in here, right?”  
         The look on their faces informed you that, no, they had not realized this. You laughed as they quickly turned and left.  
**  
         “What happened to your legs?” Reiner asked unceremoniously. You looked at him, shocked.  
         “Excuse me?” You hurriedly rolled the legs of your pants back down, anxiety ripping through you.  
         “What happened to your legs?” You looked from him to Bertholdt—he usually intervened by now, stopping Reiner when you became uncomfortable. He didn’t. He looked rather ill, actually, as if he had seen a ghost.  
         “Nothing important,” you said, which you tried to rationalize as true, since you couldn’t remember how they had gotten there. Whatever importance those scars had had was long gone. “I don’t actually remember, honestly.” They didn’t have to know that you had no memory of the time before Wall Maria. “Can we maybe not talk about my body flaws?”  
          Neither of them looked convinced.   
         “A friend of mine had scars like those,” Bertholdt said slowly. You looked at him, knowing that he was referring to the girl Reiner had told you about. He didn’t know that you knew about her, so you merely frowned at him. He must have thought better of whatever he was going to say, because he fell silent and couldn’t meet your eye.  
**  
         You came back to the present as the sun was finally beginning to rise. The familiar panic rose up inside you, but you pushed it down as usual. The girls around you still hadn’t awoken, but you heard a few of them stir in their sleep.  
         You wanted to stay in these barracks for longer, you realized with a start. You weren’t ready for things to change so quickly. You wanted to spend more time with your friends, with your roommates. You wanted to have more terrible dinners in the mess hall You wanted to watch Jean and Eren fight, although you were willing to admit that this was only because you enjoyed seeing Jean get his ass handed to him. You wanted to watch Sasha and Connie as they went about their usual antics.  
         You wanted to look into pale green eyes every day, and you weren’t ready for to stop seeing them yet. You tucked your necklace back beneath your shirt, and resolved to tell him before you all chose your military branches tomorrow. You needed him to know that you cared, although you weren’t sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, comments and kudos are so helpful. I live for reviews-- it makes writing far more enjoyable for me, and I like seeing your guys' opinions on the plot and advancement.
> 
> More chapters to come soon. Also, you can expect some smut to appear within the next few chapters.
> 
> Should I include some POV chapters from the Colossal Cutie, or no?


	9. A Painful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Trost begins.

                You watched the top 10 cadets salute as their names were called. You weren’t surprised as you looked over them—well, that wasn’t completely true. You were a little surprised that Krista was in the top 10 instead of Ymir, but you had the feeling that that Ymir’s doing anyways. You almost smiled at the idea.

                Watching them, you felt a sense of finality overtake you. You would all be stationed in Trost for the day, then join your intended military branches. Your mind wandered to Bertholdt and Reiner—you had to tell them goodbye before the end of the day. You didn’t want to say goodbye at all, but you couldn’t leave it unsaid.

**

                You stood atop the wall, inspecting the canons. The idea was that they might slow down the titans while the military took the actual kill shots. It would reduce human deaths by a great number if the titans were missing a limb or two when the soldiers went to fight them, so long as the titans weren’t given enough time to regenerate.

                You were almost awed by how much power the metal machines held, and how much influence that power could have. This was a step forward, even if a small one.

                You wandered over to some of your fellow graduates when you saw them congregating. It sounded as if most of them had been inspired by Eren, and were going into the Survey Corp as well. You were happy that you wouldn’t be saying goodbye to them yet, but something in you hoped that they would change their minds before they chose their branches tonight. You were at peace with the idea of losing your life, but the thought of your friends dying left you with a harsh ache. You shoved the idea away.

                You were abruptly brought out of your internal musings as Sasha offered to share some meat that she had stolen. Everybody looked horrified, pointing out that meat was extremely expensive these days. Sasha responded that once they regained control over Wall Maria, there would be able to have all the meat they wanted. This seemed to encourage everybody, and they all agreed to share the stolen goods. You nodded along, since you might not get another chance to share such a luxurious meal with your friends for a long time.

                Then everything went to Hell.

                A blinding light flashed just outside the wall. There was a sound like thunder, and you felt yourself paralyzed with fear. _They’re coming—_ You stared into the eyes of the Colossal Titan in the brief moment before the gust of air given off by his sudden appearance pushed you over the edge of the wall. Something in you clicked for a moment, and you felt an ache so intense that you barely registered that you were falling. _Oh God, I couldn’t save him from this, I couldn’t save him—_ _save who?_ You blinked, snapping out of your trance, and grabbed at the triggers for your 3D maneuver gear. You launched your anchors into the surface of the wall, already more than halfway to the ground by the time you caught yourself. How could you just freeze like that?! Eren was already back on top of the wall, and he disappeared from your line of sight as he launched into an attack.

                You heard the screeching and scraping of metal, and looked up in time to see the railing and canons swept off the wall, missing you and your fellow cadets completely due to how forcefully the defenses were shoved aside. _It targeted the canons—it’s sentient?_ The gate below you was destroyed as the Colossal Titan kicked it inwards. You felt sick as you realized that Trost district was now lost, and that if the Armored Titan showed up, all of Wall Rose would be doomed as well. You hoped that Eren managed to kill the Colossal Titan, at least—but when you looked up, the biggest enemy of humanity had vanished, leaving nothing but a cloud of vapor.

                You launched off the wall, immediately leaving to find your commanding officer. The Garrison would be holding off the majority of the titans for a short time. You needed instructions. Once you were on the ground, you sprinted instead of using your mobility gear. You needed to conserve your gas. Running out would mean certain death.

**

                Evacuate the citizens. Fend off the titans until the citizens are out of the vicinity. Retreat behind the walls as soon as possible so that you can regroup and receive further instruction.

                These were the orders given to the newly graduated cadets. Nothing is ever that simple. You were assigned to one of the squads evacuating citizens. Your squad was assigned to evacuate one of the southernmost sections of Trost. You used the gear now, no longer able to avoid using gas, helping rush people from their homes and into the streets. From there, they were guided to the gates into the main area of Wall Rose. You saw that there was already a large crowd around the gate, and a few carts of goods. You scowled. Amazing, how people would put their material goods over their own safety and the safety of others.

                You didn’t have time to do anything about it, as your squad was already moving on to the next section of town. You saw tall figures ducking under the gate in the distance. It was only just beginning. You gritted your teeth as the screams started.

                You didn’t run into any real trouble until you were evacuating the third section of town you were assigned to. By then, your numbers were wearing thin. The defense teams were decimated, and the evacuation teams were losing people now as well. It didn’t surprise you in the least when a titan wandered onto the end of the street, turning its haunting gaze towards you and your small group of residents.

                “Elaine!” You called to one of your fellow squad members. “Lead them the rest of the way—we won’t make it if Ugly advances any further.” There were too many panicked civilians in this group, they would never get away in time if you all simply tried to run. The larger the group, the slower the evacuation. You launched your anchors into one of the taller buildings, not waiting for Elaine to respond. You soared through the air. You didn’t feel that usual rush of freedom this time, but rather a sense of responsibility. You had gained knowledge and skill, and now it was time to put it all to use.

                You anchored yourself to the titan’s shoulder and laid on the gas as you swung forward with your blades drawn. You sliced away a large section out of the nape of its neck, and you breathed a sigh of relief. It was your first titan kill—at least you would die having taken one of those monstrosities with you on your way out, since you weren’t sure that you would survive today. You turned to find your group again, speeding away. You caught up and guarded them through the city to the gates, and then returned to your duties alongside your squad.

                The next section was completely overrun. You knew in your heart that it was too late for this section, and you wanted to scream as you reached the ground. You and your squad searched for signs of human life, knowing that it was pointless. Whenever a titan ventured in closer, you teamed up to take it down. Many of the houses here had been smashed to pieces, and blood formed pools on the hardpacked earth of the road.

                You tried not to look too closely, willed yourself not to register which body parts were strewn across the place.

                “No survivors,” Nathaniel, another one of your squad members, called out. “Fall back!”

                “What now?!” Elaine yelled back, frantically, as you all retreated into the air. You heard screaming behind you, and turned your head just long enough to see another member of your squad already in the jaws of a titan. _Not fast enough,_ you thought grimly.

                “We go restock on fuel and scale the wall—our task is done, we just need more gas!” You yelled. “Where are the refuel squads?! They were supposed to be here by now! We’ll have to go to them!” You found a boiling rage rising in your gut, coursing through your veins. How many of your friends were dead now? How many were about to be dead, once they ran out of fuel? You seriously doubted you were the only group who hadn’t received resources.

                You felt a shudder in your wires, and you cringed. You were dangerously low on gas now.

                “We’re not going to make it that far!” Nathaniel’s panic was written in every note of his voice. “We’ll run out of gas before then!”

                “Not if we run—if we run part of the way, only as long as there are no titans on the street—we can save gas! But the moment you see one coming our way, it’s back in the air! Got it?!” You yelled back.

                “That will never work!” The despair in Elaine’s voice cut deeper than Nathaniel’s panic.

                “It has to!” You shouted back, dropping to the ground and taking off in a run. They did the same. The titans were ambling by in streets adjacent to you. You made it only a few blocks before you had to go back to using the gear. You altered course to soar by that titan, completely bypassing him, before you all returned to running. The end was in sight--- there was the resource center! You felt a relieved smile start on your face, before it immediately died there.

                There were several smaller class titans around, and you suspected they were in the lower floor of the base as well, given the dimensions of the open entry way. A few fifteen-meter titans were also nearby.

                You all took to the skies again, speeding away. With so little gas, you wouldn’t be able to take the titans down.

                Almost as if fate had been cruelly anticipating your thoughts, you felt the shudder in your gear’s wires again. Then your anchors broke loose from the wall they were grappled to. Your momentum carried you forward, sending you skidding across the ground. You lifted your upper body away from the ground with a groan, turning to tell your teammates to keep moving forward, only to see that they were gone.

                You heard screaming, and you felt sick.

                They had run out of gas before you, you realized. Just like in training, you used less gas than you were supposed to. Today, that meant you survived just a little bit longer than you would have otherwise. They must have run out of gas only a couple of maneuvers ago, given how close their voices sounded. The screaming stopped, cut off in the middle. You didn’t turn around. You knew what waited there, at the far end of the street.

                You stood, shaking. Your gaze flew over your surroundings, and you watched numbly as a titan came around the corner ahead of you. Its eyes focused on you, and you drew your blades. It began to lumber towards you, unhurried, and you stood your ground.

You waited until it was close, until it was reaching out towards you. It was eerily familiar, although you couldn’t have said why. You took off in a sprint at the last moment, running towards the titan ahead of you. This caused it to overshoot its hand when it reached for you, missing you. You sprinted between its legs and cut the tendons of its ankle, causing it to fall forward. _It’s pointless. I’m trapped inside a walled city with no way out._ The thought filled you with rage, and you turned, climbing onto the titan as it laid there, twisted awkwardly where it had fallen. You ran along its spine, reaching its neck as it began to slowly move to push itself back up. You nearly lost your balance as its body shifted slightly beneath you, and you only just managed to slice a section out of the nape of its neck. It collapsed. Its head and neck had only lifted a couple of feet off the ground, but the fall was enough to make you fall off of the creature. You laid there, stunned, watching the steam from the titan’s body rise. After what felt like hours, but could only have been a few minutes, you felt the ground beginning to shake.

                You stood. _I can’t pull that stunt off again,_ you thought bitterly. You sheathed your now blunted blades, the last pair you had, and began to run. You didn’t make it far.

                When you finally felt a hand grab you and lift you into the air, you began to give in—you had no chance against a titan with your blades the way they were. Then it registered that the hand was human sized, and that it was grabbing your wrist. You looked up, shocked, as you landed roughly on a rooftop.

                A pair of pale green eyes stared back at you.

                “Get on,” Bertholdt said hurriedly, turning so that you could climb onto his back. Once you were secured, he launched into the air. Within a few jumps, you found yourself on a building with him and several of your other former classmates. You slid off of his back once you landed. There was silence for a moment, as he simply stared at you, confused. Once others started talking again, he began to speak with you in lowered tones. “H-how long were you down there?”

                “I don’t know, maybe ten, fifteen minutes?”

                “And you survived that long? H-How?”

                “I don’t know, instinct?” His eyes bore into yours, and you looked away first. “The others in my squad died almost immediately after their gas ran out. I guess I still haven’t been using as much gas as I should, because I didn’t run out until after they did.” You would cry later. Your initial fear and rage were wearing off, and you would feel the pain later on—assuming you survived that long.

                “How did y-you kill that t-titan? I-I only found you because of the steam.”

                “I cut its ankle. It fell. I took it out.” Silence fell between the two of you, filled by the bickering of your former classmates. Ymir being cruel to Armin, Connie speaking up, Krista intervening. It felt strange, knowing how even now these things were constants. Bertholdt looked over to them, watching. You didn’t look away from him, biting your lip as you made a split-second decision. You were going to die unless you got gas. You sighed, knowing that this was likely the last chance you would get…

                “Hey, Bertholdt?” you said quietly, so quietly you almost wondered if he heard you at all. He must have, because he looked at you. You reached up and cupped your hand over the back of his neck, guiding him down slightly as you stood on your tiptoes. You kissed him gently, barely more than a brush of your lips against his. You stepped back afterwards, opening your eyes. He stared at you, eyes wide and face flushed. He was still leaning forwards slightly from where you had guided him. “Sorry,” you whispered, horrified that you might have upset him.

                Your thoughts were cut short as Mikasa arrived and Armin proclaimed the deaths of his squad. Within a few minutes, Mikasa somehow convinced you all to try and retake the fuel center. You were shocked by how quickly things could take a new direction. Everybody began to move into action, Bertholdt taking your arm and motioning for you to get on his back.

                “N-Noah,” he stuttered, wiping his palms on his pants, presumably because they were sweaty, before he reached for the controls of his gear.

                “I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry—“ You were cut off as he spoke.

                “W-when this is o-over, come b-back to my hometown w-with me, okay?” He spoke urgently despite his nervously stuttered words.

                “Okay,” you managed to say quietly. He shot his anchors into a building, following your fellow cadets on their way to retake the center.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, comments, concerns?  
> Thank you for reading! And also for your patience!


	10. A Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very emotional chapter, and something new develops with the reader and Bertholdt.

                You crashed through the window of the resource headquarters, still clinging to Bertholdt’s back. You were tensed so hard that you may as well have been frozen to him. Looking back on what had happened to get you here, however, you realized that the shock was warranted.

                A titan was responsible for the success of this endeavor. _A titan_.

                A fifteen-meter class titan had gone rogue, somehow, and was attacking its own kind. It attacked the titans crowded around the building, allowing you all to make it inside. Apparently the same titan had saved Mikasa from a titan before that, according to Armin and Connie.

                Your fate rested in the hands of a titan—and with a bitter taste in your mouth, you realized that that was nothing new.

                Bertl tapped on your arm gently, reminding you that you were still holding onto him. You unclenched your muscles with some effort, releasing him as quickly as you could, murmuring an apology to him as you did. He merely smiled meekly at you in response.

                You barely registered the conversation following your arrival— you registered only enough information to realize that these cowards hiding in the resource center had caused the deaths of your squad and several others when they chose to barricade themselves inside rather than performing their duties. They were supposed to bring you gas; they did not. You felt now-familiar rage building in your gut, and you focused on keeping it contained.

                You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You refocused, listening as Armin began to form a plan to retake the bottom floor of the headquarters, so that you all might be able to get to where the fuel was stored. Many of your numbers would be lowered in an elevator as ‘bait’ for the titans. Those would shoot the eyes of the titans with rifles, blinding them for a moment. Then seven of your numbers, those with the best athletic skills, would come down from the rafters and kill the seven titans there.

                **

                You decided to never tell Armin how much you had doubted that his plan would work. As a matter of fact, you decided to never doubt any of his plans again, given that he had somehow talked the military out of doing God knows what to Eren after he came out of the nape of the Rogue Titan’s neck. You could hardly believe your eyes as he emerged. You had all been hurried away into the town just beyond the gates immediately afterwards, with only Mikasa and Armin being allowed to stay with Eren.

                Upon hearing a canon shot coming from inside the walls, Reiner had gone to investigate—Bertholdt had followed. You had stayed put. You had finally learned to recognize when your mind was struggling to remember something, after so many years of brief moments of clarity, and something was definitely hovering on the edges of your memory in the midst of all of this. That ‘something’ had you so absorbed that you hadn’t registered the canon fire to begin with, so you hadn’t moved to follow your other friends.

                When they returned later, they informed you that the canon shot had been fired at Eren, and he had survived it by forming the upper body of a titan to protect Mikasa, Armin, and himself. Armin then convinced the military to let Eren live, claiming that Eren might be able to close the breach in the wall. General Dot Pixis had stepped in and decided to give Armin’s plan a chance. You hadn’t responded to the information, aside from patting the patch of ground beside you. They sat down, Bertholdt sitting between you and Reiner. He told you that everyone would be receiving instruction within a few hours.

                Now, the operation to retake Trost was underway. You were stationed with a large group of soldiers atop the wall in an attempt to draw the majority of the titans to that area (and away from Eren). You worried for your comrades, many of whom were in the city below, keeping the remaining titans away from Eren-- Bertholdt, Reiner, Marco, Mikasa, and Armin, just to name a few… You hoped they all made it back okay.

                Your eyes focused on the grinning and vacant expressions of the giants beneath you.

                **

                When Bertholdt and Reiner returned that evening, you immediately ran to them, hugging them tightly to you, one of them in each arm. You didn’t want to admit how worried you were for them. Reiner calmly pried your arm from around his shoulder, then pushed you further into Bertholdt’s space.

                “You two have a lot to talk about.” He sounded so serious, almost urgent. The two of you merely nodded, both dumbfounded, and he left quickly. The two of you wandered off together, searching for someplace private. In the meantime, he informed you of the arrival of the Survey Corp, and that Eren had been taken into their custody. He hesitated for a moment, before informing you that Eren was also in a coma. After that, you were both silent as you searched through the crowds of Trost refugees for somewhere where you could be alone.

                **

                You finally settled on a place populated by only a few of your fellow soldiers, who had long sense fallen asleep. You two sat down on the edge of that makeshift encampment, backs leaning against the wall of a building. You sighed, fumbling with the buckles of the gear straps on your thighs, swearing under your breath when your hands were shaking far too much to undo them. You gave up, closing your eyes in frustration. You felt slight pressure on one of the straps before it released, and you reopened your eyes to see Bertholdt carefully undoing the buckles. He wore a look of concentration, and when he caught your gaze, you could see him break out into a sweat.

                “S-sorry,” he said, quickly pulling away.

                “N-no, please…” You felt your cheeks flush, shocked at your own stuttered response. “I wouldn’t mind the help,” you admitted sheepishly. He looked at you, stunned, before nodding. His hands returned to the buckles and finished with the ones at your thighs.

“This one, too?” He asked quietly, gesturing to the chest strap without looking at you.

“Please,” you replied, voice soft. You had never let somebody help you take the gear off before—he was literally stripping you of your armor, your protection. It felt more intimate than you cared to admit. He reached out again, long nimble fingers loosening the strap and finally releasing its grasp over you.

His eyes darted to the strap buckled at your waistband, then again to meet your gaze. You nodded your permission, and his gaze dropped down to the buckle. _He must be really nervous_ , you thought as you reached up and pushed his slightly sweat dampened hair away from his face. You shuddered slightly at the feeling of his hands sliding along the strap at your waistband, slipping a finger beneath the strap and carefully creating a gap between it and your body so that he could remove the final restraint. When it was finally unclasped, and his hands left you, you found yourself missing the contact.

You were surprised when his hands returned, easing the straps from your shoulders, even though you could have easily shrugged out of the harness. Afterwards, he took hold of your boots and tugged them off. You hadn’t thought he’d help you past the buckles, since you could get the rest on your own. He eased the confining belts of leather away from your legs, and the gear fell away from your body completely. You felt him pause, tracing a fingertip over a strip of skin exposed in a gap between your pants leg and your sock. You knew he had found some of your scars again, but you didn’t care in this moment.

           “Thank you, Bertl,” you said softly, feeling something close to an ache when his hands left you to tackle the task of removing his own gear. You gently swatted his hands away, leaning forward and taking on the task yourself. Your hands still shook—more so than before, in fact—but you were determined to return the favor of what he had just done. He didn’t object. When you had finally finished, taking far more time than it would have taken had he done it himself, he murmured his thanks. You sat back in your place beside him, closing your eyes.

            “H-how did you get those?” He finally asked. Unlike last time, when Reiner had asked, you didn’t feel as if the question was intrusive.

            “I don’t know,” you replied. His gaze darkened.

            “You could have just said you didn’t want to tell.”

             “I do want to, but—“ you felt your voice shaking.

             “But what?”

             “But _I don’t know_ how I got them. I don’t _remember_ ,” you managed to whisper, one of your hands lifting to run through your hair. You parted it so that he could the scar there.

             He brushed a fingertip over it, and you could feel has his hand shook.

             A sob ripped through you before you could reign it in, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. You had never cried in front of him, had never let any of your fellow soldiers see you cry. But in the last 24 hours, you had lost your squad, had nearly lost your life, and had lost many of your friends. And now, here you were only hours later, somehow allowing somebody to _quite literally_ remove your every defense. Now the same person who stripped away your armor was seeing the weakest parts of you. It was too much raw feeling, and you couldn’t hold it back any more. Tears streamed down your face freely, and you clenched your eyes shut as tightly as you could. Your knees rose to your chest, and you crossed your arms over them, burying your face there. It felt so good to let these pains free, like releasing a breath that has been held for far too long. You could breathe again.

            He was silent, and for a moment, you were afraid he didn’t believe you. Instead, you felt one strong arm slip under your knees, the other wrapping around your shoulder, before you were lifted into his lap. _Why is this so familiar?_

            The smell of sweat and something woodsy was calming. You briefly wondered why you hadn’t done this before, told him the truth, let him in. It felt like second nature. He brought his hand up to find the seam of scar tissue hidden in your hair. “W-when did th-this happen?” He sounded so broken.

            “Right after the fall of Wall Maria.” You felt something hot and wet drip onto the top of your head, and you realized with a start that you weren’t the only one who was shedding tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from the Colossal Cutie's perspective........sooooooo much angst. :(   
> Smut in the chapter after that.... Sooooooo much smut. o.o


	11. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from Bertholdt's point of view.

                When I first saw her, I thought I was going to be sick. She looked exactly like Amara. Her hair, her eyes, her skin—they were all the same. Her physical appearance wasn’t what bothered me, though. It was the way she stood, on the balls of her feet as if she was on the edge of running away. It was the way her eyes moved over the room. It was the way she was already planning her next escape, the thoughts written across her face if you knew how to read her. Every action was Amara, through and through.

                I almost called out to her when she first appeared, but that would have been foolish. This girl, no matter how similar she looked, was not Amara. Even as she climbed into bed next to me, hiding there just like Amara used to, I clung to logic. This was not Amara, that was impossible, Amara Fischer died years ago. Even if she were alive, she wouldn’t be _here_.

When the girl left that night, Reiner asked her name. The name ‘Noah Grayson’ made it easier to accept that this was not the same girl I had known all those years ago. When I talked to Reiner about it later, he told me that that was why he asked—to make it easier. He said the way I reacted worried him, so he went ahead and took matters into his own hands.

                Logic disappeared when she began to show up more and more often. It started off harmless, training together, her sitting across from Reiner and me at dinner, the occasional stray conversation. Noah began to take hold of me, and I let her. It was too easy to lose myself in those memories, to delude myself into thinking that this is what Amara would have been like. It was something peaceful to think about when the weight of my sins became too much. It was as soothing illusion, a beautiful lie. Until one day, I looked too closely and the illusion became far too real.

                She was fixing the maneuver gear strap around her foot, her boot off and her pant leg rolled up slightly. There were scars on her feet and legs, scars I recognized instantly. I had helped Amara bandage those wounds on a few occasions, as they had resisted healing. Reiner knew this story, and immediately began to question her.

                In my memories, Amara explained, almost casually, that her father had thrown an empty liquor bottle at her feet. In the present was Noah, scars telling a story she refused to acknowledge, shoving her foot back into her boot in a quick and angry motion. All I could think of was Amara climbing into my room for the first time, linen rags around her feet and legs. I could have told someone about her father, back then. If I had, maybe she’d still be alive. I was told it was illness that killed her, but if she had been in a place where she could heal, where she wasn’t being hurt, she might have lived.

                The dreams started after that. When I was awake, I could separate the two girls, past and present, memory and reality. When I was asleep, Amara and Noah merged into one being. Noah running into the boys’ barracks with her legs bleeding, Amara’s father in a Garrison uniform chasing after her. Noah sitting down to dinner with Reiner and I in the mess hall, a Liberio Internment Zone armband marking her as an Eldian, asking me if I still intended to participate in the warrior program and if I would be willing to train with her on the 3D maneuver gear. Noah clutching a necklace to her chest so hard that her knuckles turned white, before slowly unfurling her fingers to reveal a lump of steel, her voice cold as she spoke, _you’re going to let me die, too?_ I knew that I couldn’t.

I realized then that I was in love with her. I was determined to save her, to somehow take her back to Marley with me. Surely they wouldn’t deny one of their Warriors, once the mission was over. I couldn’t save Amara, but I can save Noah. I told Reiner my plan. He didn’t argue. The rest of our time in training passed quickly.

                Then we graduated, and Reiner and I had to move forward with the mission. I had mentally prepared myself to bring down the gate, had acknowledged that I was killing my friends. After the wall came down, I would find Noah and keep her safe until Reiner took out the inner gate and the order to retreat was given. Then we’d keep her safe until we had the Coordinate, until we could take her back with us. I didn’t know she would be stationed on the wall above Trost’s outer gate. I didn’t know I would have to see her as I kicked it in.

                At first, her face showed absolute fear, a deep dread. Then her eyes fixed on mine, and any trace of fear was gone from her. Instead, there was pain. As she fell over the edge of the wall, I remembered that same expression on Amara’s face years before—

_“The warrior program? Bertl… you’ll die if you do, you’ll die... Please, Bertholdt, please, don’t go, don’t go—“_

She stopped coming to school a few days later. I thought she had run away, I even hoped she had, but a week after she stopped showing up for school, I learned the truth. She had fallen ill. Her parents had buried her as soon as she died, afraid of getting sick themselves.

                Maybe I killed Amara when I said I wouldn’t stay. Maybe she would have fought harder.

                Maybe I just killed Noah, too.

                Maybe I couldn’t save either of them.

**

                “It’s her.”

                “That’s impossible, Bertholdt.” Reiner sounds angry. I don’t even have to tell him what I’m talking about. He already knows.

                “She looks exactly like her, she’s the right age, she has the same scars, she—“

                “If it was her, that would mean she was exiled. She never would have made it to the walls.”

                “She survived surrounded by titans for 15 minutes. She said it was instinct. She knows how to avoid them. Amara was smart. She wouldn’t have gone straight North to Shiganshina, she would have detoured to avoid the titans altogether. If she went to one of the other gates, she might have made it. When we were out there, we went for months without seeing them, until we got near the walls.”

                “She would have told you about the scars if it was Amara, Bertl. I’m sorry.”

                We were silent for a while, watching as Eren carried the boulder to the broken gate. The conversation turned to our mission as warriors. I didn’t want to think about the hole in the gate being closed. Seeing Noah’s face as I broke it down the first time had been enough. More soldiers would pour in, more people would die. But if we took Eren back to Marley, maybe we wouldn’t have to break down any more of the gates. Maybe nobody else would have to die.

                “Hey… you guys…”

                Marco.

                Shit.

**

                She is waiting for us, once we return after the mission to retake Trost is declared a success. She pulls us both into a hug, and I am shocked at the surprising amount of strength she has in her tiny form, even though I should be used to it by now. Reiner breaks her hold, pulling her arm away from him. He pushes her, none too gently, further towards me. I can feel the heat of her body pressed against mine, her heart beating rapidly. She is shaking, although I am certain she doesn’t realize it.

                “You two have a lot to talk about,” he states. He wants me to talk to her about Amara, move past this. I can’t. I can get neither Amara nor Noah out of my head.

                We started looking for a place where we could sit and talk. In the meantime, I debriefed her on how the mission to retake Trost had gone. She nodded along numbly, and silence fell. I looked at her closely, knowing that she wouldn’t notice. She wasn’t as alert as usual, although she was always far less alert at night than she was during the day. She never naps during the day, never seems to sit still. She’s restless. The other girls say she wakes early, before the sun rises. When night falls, she relaxes after a few hours. I have sympathy for her, as I had the same sleep pattern during my journey to the walls. Titans are only a threat during the day, so you could never let your guard down, never stop moving, until night.

                This town is overcrowded with Trost refugees, but we finally manage to find a place where we can sit and talk. It has a few other soldiers, but they are all asleep. We sit down and lean against the wall of a building. She goes to take off her gear, but gives up quickly. Her hands are shaking so badly that she can’t get even one buckle undone. Without thinking, I remove the one she had attempted to undo. I apologize immediately when I see the shock on her face, but instead of rebuking me, she asks me to help her with the rest.

                I oblige, maybe a little too eagerly. I don’t want to stop touching her, don’t want to lose this closeness. I move past the buckles once they are all unclasped, helping her remove the gear entirely even though she could do the rest on her own. When I no longer have any feasible excuse to keep touching her, when all of her gear is off and forgotten, I stop. I move on to my own gear, and she stops me. She starts to do it for me, her hands shaking even worse than before. However, she doesn’t stop trying. She must want to touch me, too. As she bows her head to concentrate on the buckle at my waistband, I see a cord at the back of her neck, exposed by her current position. She wears a necklace? I look at the well-worn cord, faded by time and wear.

                I’m suddenly very aware of how little I know about her. I know her name. I know that she is 17. I know that she runs for hours on end. I know that she had an adoptive mother named Carol. I know that she has scars on her feet and legs, although according to the whispers I’ve overheard, she has many more in other places. And now, I know that she wears some sort of necklace.

                Finally, she finishes, returning to her sitting position beside me, and I can’t put off this conversation any longer. I have to find a way to separate her from Amara, or I’ll eventually go insane. Maybe I already am. I go over my options. I can ask her outright about who she is, risking our friendship. I can ask her about her scars, which she already knows I am aware of. I can ask her life before all of this, but I don’t want to risk bringing that up after today’s events. Of these options, the scars seem to be the least dangerous territory. I don’t want to ask, don’t want to break this moment of peace, but I do.

                “I don’t know,” is her only answer. Something akin to anger sinks its claws into my insides.

                 “You could have just said you didn’t want to tell.” I find myself saying it, even as I beg my mouth to shut up, to stop talking before I hurt her.

                 “I do want to, but—“

                 “But what?” I sound cold, and her voice is trembling.

                 “But I don’t know how I got them. I don’t remember,” she whispers so quietly I almost don’t hear her. She lifts a hand to her hair, running it through before pushing it aside. My hand lifts, almost of its own accord, and I trace the ridge of scar tissue there. 

                 After that, she just kind of… broke. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop it. At the same time, I could see the weight lifting from her shoulders. Instinct takes over, and I pull her into my lap. I pull her in as close as I can, and I can feel her slowly start to calm down after what feels like an eternity. I twine my fingers into her hair, find the same scar again.

                 “W-when did th-this happen?” My voice is shaking. My heart breaks for her.

                 “Right after the fall of Wall Maria.” I don’t feel the tears on my face until one falls, landing in her hair. We are silent after that. I can feel her heartbeat, fast like a rabbit’s, but slowly beginning to reach a normal pace. Eventually, she drifts off to sleep. Careful not to move her, I reach over to where I gear lays on the ground beside us, retrieving my jacket. I wrap it around her. It’s going to be a little chilly tonight, and she needs as much rest as she can get. I’m always warm, anyways.

                Reiner wanted me to move past Noah. Instead, I decide that I would sooner die than leave her behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's seriously *so close* to figuring it out. In the meantime, it's straight up going to mentally torment him. :P  
> Brownie points to anybody who can guess how he'll finally find out it's her.
> 
> Things are going to get pretty dark within the next few chaps...
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


	12. Friction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, no plot, just smut.  
> Just a small sample of the immense amounts of smut that's going to show up later.  
> I'm only mildly embarrassed.

                It was late when you and Bertholdt reached the stables. You had both been out riding, and had gotten in later than you intended. Now you were thankful for the late hour, and for the darkness that it brought. He had been helping you off of your horse—you were short and your legs were stiff after so many hours. He had reached up, putting his hands on your waist, and lifted you carefully off of the saddle. He set you down, and his hands had lingered before hesitantly sliding over your hips.

                You had looked up at him, shocked for a moment, before you made a split-second decision. You reached up one hand, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. You stood on your tiptoes and guided his lips down to yours. The kiss had been light, barely there, just a faint brushing of his lips against your own. He pulled away to look at you, your lips parted slightly and your eyes slowly opening before gazing up at him. You untangled your fingers from his hair, intending to start the trek back to your barracks. That thought disappeared within moments.

                Bertholdt crashed his lips back down onto yours, frantic this time, the hands on your hips pulling you flush against his body. You groaned, and his fingertips pressed into your soft flesh. “Noah,” he breathed out, voice huskier than usual. He had grown into quite the man. His pupils were blown wide as he pulled away and looked down at you, only a thin ring of green visible in his now nearly-black eyes. He backed you into the wall, his body mere inches from your own. You could feel his body heat coming off in waves, engulfing you. You felt your body grow hot as he towered over you, before closing the gap between you once more, and you could feel his erection against the front of your waist. His lips found your neck, nipping slightly before he kissed the skin to soothe it. You whimpered quietly, clutching him closer to you.

                He shifted against you, nudging his thigh between your legs. You let out a sharp breath when his thigh met your aching core. The breath turned into a moan when he shifted his leg, moving it slowly against you. He chuckled against your neck, a hot puff of air ghosting against your skin and bringing goosebumps to your flesh. His hands slid up from your hips, skimming over your sides and breasts before coming to the top button of your shirt. He left your neck long enough to look into your eyes, seeking permission. You nodded, dazed, your eyes glassy from the pleasure he was bringing you.

                He began to kiss your lips then as his hands undid the first few buttons, before he began to kiss down your jaw and neck. His thigh still rocked against your core, slowly, but more insistent than before. He sucked an angry red mark onto the skin of your chest as he finished with your shirt, pushing it off of your shoulders and onto the ground, where it was immediately forgotten. The night air was cold against your skin, and you shivered slightly. His warm palms felt wonderful against the chill, and they came to cup your breasts over your bra. Your breath hitched, and you ground yourself down against his thigh, no longer content with the slow tease he was providing.

                He laughed, sliding his hands down to your ass. He gave it a squeeze then put his hands under your thighs, lifting your legs as he shifted his hips to rest between them. Now his erection met with your center, and he bucked against you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles locking together, arms wrapping around his neck. You whimpered and he repeated the motion, gaze slightly unfocused as he looked into your eyes. He caught your lips with his own, gently biting your lower lip before sucking on it lightly, grinding forward into your center in a slow and easy rhythm. You were shaking against him, rolling your hips to meet his. You moaned into his mouth, the friction against your dripping wet pussy causing a coil to wind tightly in your lower stomach despite the layers of fabric keeping your bodies apart. You bucked your hips. He must have sensed the desperation behind your actions, as the rhythm of his hips against yours increased.

                His hands left your thighs, the only thing keeping you from falling was your legs around him and your back pressed against the wall. One of his hands wound its way into your hair, cradling the back of your head and effectively holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His other hand palmed one of your breasts, gently, his fingers spreading over the curve of your breast. The tip of his thumb traced the upper edge of your bra, and you could feel how much he wanted to push the fabric aside, to see you. But he was purposefully making this encounter about your pleasure over his own. The thought made you shiver. He leaned down and kissed your neck again, leaving yet another mark on the smooth expanse of skin, marking you again and again as his. You were so close, one more movement of his hips and you would be done, pushed over the edge without him making contact with your bare sex, just a little bit more, and—

 

                Someone shook your shoulders and you awakened with a start. “Are you okay?” Bertholdt asked you, eyes wide. “It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

                _Dammit, Bertl,_ you thought bitterly. “Yeah, I’m fine—sorry to scare you.” Your face felt hot with embarrassment. You shifted in his lap and barely held back a groan as you did at the feeling of friction between his lap and your core.

                Your blush deepened when you realized that your dream had likely been caused by his proximity to you. You reveled in the way his scent surrounded you.

                The only reason you were able to return to sleep was because of the exhaustion that still lingered heavily in your body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this was actually my first time writing smut.  
> Sorry if it isn't up to standard.


	13. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is straight up angst. Like, your character is responding to the loss of her loved ones, the deaths of her comrades, etc..  
> Tags for mentions of gore (although not very graphic), self-loathing, survivor's guilt, and risk taking behavior.

                The next two days were filled with the sound of canon fire as the titans were eliminated in Trost. You were of no use during that time and were left to wander aimlessly around town. You were painfully aware of Bertholdt’s absence during those two days, and you suspected that you may have ruined your friendship when you revealed that you had no memory of anything before your life in Wall Rose. You knew it was a pretty big secret to hide from someone for so long. Three years, and he had become your closest friend. Yet you had still hidden this from him. Where other conversation had come easy, you had hidden away this crucial part of your story.

                You tried not to think about it. He was going to the military police, after all. What were you expecting? That he would change his plans and follow you into the hell outside the walls? No, by Bertholdt’s own admission, he had no will of his own. He would go somewhere safe, where he wouldn’t have to make tough decisions or watch soldiers die. You would likely never see him again. If you did, it would be years from now, and likely only in passing.

                _He asked me to go to his hometown with him,_ some hopeful part of your brain reasoned. You knew that his hometown was outside Wall Rose, so this was likely an impossible request. You would have to reclaim Wall Maria to do that, which would take years and years. You doubted that that would happen in your lifetime, unless something drastically changed. _We won Trost back, that was a drastic change—_ You shook your head as if to remove the naïve and intrusive thought.

No, last night was probably the last time you would see Bertl. You held no delusions that you would live long while you were a part of the Survey Corp. Besides, he had asked you to go to his hometown during a battle in which you were both likely to die. It stood to reason that he would have changed his mind, especially when the decision was made so recklessly.

                Despite all of your reasoning with yourself, you felt his absence as a sort of ache. There was an emptiness beside you and inside you that you weren’t used to feeling. His absence was taking a toll on you. For the past three years, he had been a nearly constant presence in your life. You were more restless in the past two days than you could ever remember being. At night, your nightmares came back with a vengeance. You only got a couple hours of sleep each night, and even then your rest was uneasy.

                After the second day, Trost had finally been cleared of titans. All of them had been eliminated, except for two smaller ones which had been captured alive for experimental purposes. The titans were no longer an immediate threat; the bodies left behind by the titans’ rampage were. The surviving soldiers were assigned to cleaning up Trost to prevent the spread of disease. You all entered the district with scarves over your faces, gloves covering your hands.

                You were able to make it through most of the cleanup without any major issue. You felt a wave of nausea each time you discovered a corpse, and you tried not to think of the souls that had once inhabited the flesh and bone before you. You concentrated on getting your job done, on making sure nobody else died.

                Unfortunately, this didn’t last. You were working with a small group of other people to clean up a particularly large cluster of bodies. There was a ball of titan vomit in one of the streets, and you were all cutting away at it so that you could remove the bodies from the area. When the hard mass finally broke open, you jumped back to avoid the bodies that spilled from it.

                A pair of blue eyes stared at you, blank and lifeless. The body they belonged to ended at the ribcage.

                You didn’t realize you were screaming.

                _I’m so sorry, Elaine._

**

                Krista stayed near you that night while the bodies were being burnt. She had been there when you had discovered Elaine’s cadaver, and had refused to leave you on your own since then. Even Ymir, in her own bitchy way, seemed almost worried. Bertholdt and Reiner stayed at a distance. You made eye contact with Bertl once, but he quickly looked away. Neither of you moved.

                You couldn’t get the image of Elaine’s body out of your head. You couldn’t save them—Elaine, Nathaniel, the section of town you were too late to evacuate, the other members of your squad whose names you hadn’t bothered to learn, the numerous members of the 104th training corp, and the list went on. When you learned that Marco had perished as well, you added his name to your growing list.

                At the very top of the list was Carol. You could picture her clearly, her red hair streaked with grey, her brown eyes glittering with life. You could remember the way her nimble hands would dart about as she picked leaves and other debris from your hair after a long day of working the fields, before you would do the same for her. You remembered the soft tones of her voice as she hummed as she worked.

                Carol’s fate had been the same as Elaine’s. Before the Battle of Trost, you had known that she had died a horrible death. Now you had been forced to see how she had died.

                You had nothing but the people you had lost. You saw that now.

                Your mind wandered back to when the Colossal Titan had appeared. You thought back to the brief piece of memory that had come to mind when humanity’s greatest enemy had appeared—you had thought of how you had failed to save someone, save _him_. Who was the man you had failed to save? _He wasn’t a man. He was a boy. A scared boy._

                You added him to your list.

**

                How did you solve your problems? By running from them, of course. Granted, this usually wasn’t such a literal statement. There were several factors that had led up to your current situation.

                One: Bertholdt joined the Survey Corp. This would not have been a problem before, but now you couldn’t be in the same room as him without waves of hurt rolling over you. You knew that this was probably unfair-- you also didn’t care.

                Two: You hadn’t been running in days, and you were incredibly restless. You couldn’t sleep at night, because something was just inherently wrong. When you did sleep, you alternated between dreams of a little boy with green eyes, and dreams of Carol walking through a forest far ahead of you. The other dreams were nightmares, and you were grateful that you couldn’t remember them.

                Three: Captain Levi alleviated some of this restlessness by assigning everybody to cleaning duty. You were thankfully put in a different room from Bertholdt to clean, however you were stuck with Reiner, which was almost as bad. Reiner had tried to talk to you almost immediately, saying ‘you should give him time’ rather than giving a greeting or asking how you were. You responded with an uncharacteristic ‘fuck off’, which must have shocked him into silence. You weren’t usually so cold. You cleaned the room quickly, throwing yourself into the task to get it done as fast as possible. Once you were done, you left immediately.

                These three factors, although ultimately insignificant, were too much for your frayed nerves to handle. So when you just so happened to find the front entry hall empty, you decided to take a small risk. You opened the door, stepped outside, and quietly closed it behind you. You took a deep breath, staring out over the open fields and the road that led off of the grounds. There were a few clouds in the sky, and there was a gentle breeze. It was perfect for a run.

                _I’ll just hop over to the next town,_ you reasoned. _It’s only 12 miles away, I could be there and back in a few hours, right? They won’t even miss me. Why would they?_

You were on the 7th mile when the storm clouds gathered in the sky. By the 8th mile, it was drizzling. By the 9th mile, the rain was coming down in sideways sheets, soaking you to the bone. The wind came in from the North, cold and unforgiving. You knew that you should get indoors, and soon, or you would risk hypothermia. Even though the temperature had been fine earlier even if it was on the brisk side, the rain and wind coming down in constant chilly droves were a viable threat. Cold water accelerates the rate of heat loss by up to 25 times faster than under normal situations. Adding in high winds, which can carry away more heat than the body generates, left you in a rather risky position. You weren’t even wearing a coat. You turned on your heel and started to run back to headquarters.

                _They’re going to notice I’ve been gone. Maybe I can convince them I just went for a run around the grounds? Yeah, right._

**

                By the time you made it on the grounds, you were covered in mud from where you had stumbled and fallen on multiple occasions. You were fading quickly. You knew this on some level, although you couldn’t seem to really understand it. You knew you were stumbling more than you were walking now. You knew that you were tired, and wanted nothing more than to sleep. You knew that your shivering had stopped now, even though you were still far too cold.

                You were close now, you could make out the square windows on the sides of the building. Just a little further.

                Your foot caught in the mud of the dirt road, turned into a treacherous quagmire. You tried to push yourself up, at first. When you found that you couldn’t summon up the strength, you started to crawl forward. You crept along until even that failed you.

                _All I wanted was a quick run,_ you thought dully. You closed your eyes, curling into yourself as tightly as you could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels incoming in next chapter.


	14. Strings

                _“Amara! Slow down!”_

_You were running hard. Night was falling, and you hated the dark, hated how weak you felt when you couldn’t see. You weren’t afraid of the dark, so much as you were afraid of who or what could sneak up on you—you were under no illusions that the internment zone was safe, let alone safe at night. Nobody would care if a small Eldian girl went missing. After all, it was only an Eldian. The Marleyan police relished tormenting your people._

_You stepped in a deeply gouged track on the dirt road, yelping as you lost your footing and fell forward. You landed on your hands and knees, ripping the skin open. You clutched your palms close to your chest, trying in vain to control your fear as the last traces of light disappeared._

_You heard footfalls, but you knew who they belonged to. You tried not to let your fear show, not in front of him. He was your best friend, and he was so strong… and you were so weak. He knelt next to you, and you felt tears spring to your eyes, deeply embarrassed. He hesitated, but then you felt him take hold of your wrist. He helped you up._

_“I told you…” he said, obviously anxious._

_“I’m sorry, Bertl,” you sniffled. He led you back home,_

_walking slowly and carefully._

_“Nobody’s going to hurt us.”_

_“Nobody is going to hurt **you** ,” you corrected tiredly. They wanted him to be one of their warriors. While you were with him, they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew better than to think you were safe. You were never safe unless he was there, and he couldn’t be with you every moment of the day. As you approached your house, you stopped in your tracks. You could already hear your father raving inside._

_“Meet me at the window?” Bertholdt asked, already taking a step backwards, away from your house. You nodded hurriedly, and he opened his front door and stepped in, closing it behind him quietly. You darted around the side, waiting outside his room. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for what seemed like forever, before the window finally opened. He helped you in, like always, and snuck you across the hall into the bathroom. He helped you clean your scraped hands and knees with practiced hands. He had helped you with a lot of wounds lately, and he was getting better at it._

_Once you were finished, he poked his head outside the door, then led you back to his room when he saw that the way was clear. You both climbed into his bed, pointedly facing away from each other. You stared at the wall blankly._

_“Why did you run?” You didn’t reply. “What’s wrong?”_

_“I don’t like the dark,” you said quietly, feeling the shame rise in your cheeks. “I don’t like not being able to see.”_

_“Why don’t you keep a candle with you then?”_

_“Because matches are too expensive.”_

_Silence fell. You were right._

_**_

_You were sitting outside the school during break, pouring over a book. You were fascinated by the subjects. It was a collection of stories, some of them from all over the world. It was rare to have reading material from other places, and you were shocked when Bertholdt showed it to you. He offered to let you read it, and you immediately agreed. You suspected that he had gotten it as a gift from the people in charge of the warrior program, as a sort of incentive to do his best. You suspected that this was them showing him only a small part of what they could give if he joined them. You sincerely hoped he wouldn’t, as you knew that it would mean a short and hard life for him._

_You looked up as he approached, a boy named Reiner following closely behind him._

_“What story are you on?”_

_“One of the myths from the far east-- ’The Strings of Fate’.”_

_“You read past me!” He accused. “What’s it about?” He sat down next to you, looking over your shoulder at the illustration on the page. The picture showed a man and a woman, standing apart from each other, but connected by a string tied around their pinky fingers._

_“People are connected to the important people in their lives by invisible strings, and the strings guide those people together. Even if they’re apart, the strings are still there, they never break. They’ll always come back to each other.” You could see the awe in his face. Reiner rolled his eyes._

_“That’s a stupid story,” he said, walking away to go talk to some of the other kids. You handed the book back to Bertholdt._

_“I won’t read any more until you’re caught up.” You said, closing the book and handing it to him. He took it, placing it in his school bag. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and pulled a short length of cord out of your pocket. “I keep rereading that one. I like it a lot. So, I thought, maybe…” You tied one end of the cord around your little finger, before offering him the other end._

_“Did you bring this just so we’d have a string?” He asked, accepting the other end and mirroring your actions._

_“Yeah, is that okay?”_

_He nodded. When your teacher called for you all to go back to class, you both removed the string from your fingers. You replaced it in your pocket._

_It was all innocent and naïve. You truly believed that your shared string would always bring the two of you together._

_**_

_“I found it at a construction site while I was in Marley. The builders said I could have it, since it’s just scrap. They have tons of it there.”_

_“What is it?” You asked curiously, staring at the small lump of metal in the palm of your hand. It felt warm from where Bertholdt had had it in his pocket._

_“It’s steel. If you hit steel and flint together, it makes fire. It’s yours, so now you don’t have to be afraid of the dark anymore.”_

_He taught you how to find flint, the two of you scrabbling for rocks on the ground, tossing them aside moments later. Eventually, you found the right type of stone. You laughed, feeling accomplished. You hugged him tightly._

_“Thank you,” you said, releasing him. He smiled back at you happily, and you both started to walk home. “Hey, Bertl, what’s this?” You ran your thumb over a few letters scratched into the edge of the steel. “BHAF?”_

_“Oh. Bertholdt Hoover, Amara Fischer.” He shrugged. He was trying to act casual, but you could see his nervousness. Bertl didn’t have many friends, and he was always nervous about losing the ones he did have. You decided not to press the matter._

_“I like it,” you said smiling, noting that your response seemed to make him happy._

_**_

_“Is that our string?” He was waiting for you outside his house. You always walked to school together, and today was no different._

_“Yeah—is that okay?” You reached up and touched where the lump of metal rested against your shirt, dangling from the same cord that you had used to attach yours and Bertholdt’s pinky fingers._

_“Yeah. It’s good.”_

_You looked at him closely, overwhelmed by the peculiar feeling that he had changed somehow. His eyes were the same strange shade of green as always, a shade somewhere between river rock and pine needles. Even if he was away, you could still close your eyes and conjure an image of them if you tried hard enough. You frowned slightly, unabashedly scanning his features, his prominent nose, his charcoal hair, his olive skin tone. Upon finding them the same as always, you decided that he hadn’t changed at all, but rather your thoughts of him had. He was no longer only your best friend. He was a fixed point in your life._

“Noah,” _the voice came from far away, and you felt like you should know the person behind the voice. Bertholdt, standing in front of you and waiting for you to bridge the gap so that you could walk to school together, didn’t seem to hear it._

_“We’ll always find each other, right?” You asked, ignoring the voice for now. Your mind had wandered back to the warrior program, which you knew he was a candidate for. You had seen the way the Marleyan soldiers treated him now, as an equal. You knew the reason why he was taken on trips outside of the Liberio internment zone. You knew that if he joined the program, you would lose him. You asked in hopes that if he said yes, it would surely mean he would stay, that maybe you were a fixed point in his life, too._

“Noah,” _you heard the voice again, and it was more insistent this time. Who is Noah?_

_“Right,” Bertholdt agreed fervently as you took your place beside him. You began to walk to school, staring at the ground before you._

“Noah,” _there was that voice again._

“Who i-i-i-is N-Noah?” _You asked Bertholdt, but when looked over, he was gone. Why were you so cold-- so cold that your teeth chattered and your voice shook?_

“You are,” _said the voice, sounding almost scared._

“N-n-o, I-I’m n-n-not,” _you argued._ “That’s n-n-not my n-name.” _You felt the need to clarify, although it seemed redundant. You also noticed that your voice sounded funny now, different from before, somehow. More like an adult’s than like a child’s. You were scared, you wanted Bertholdt to come back, where had Bertholdt gone? You clenched your eyes tight, this had to be a nightmare, he was just here, wasn’t he? You pictured his green eyes clearly. When you opened your eyes again, those eyes would be there, he would be there. You waited until you could imagine every last detail, see the tiny flecks of darker green hidden among the lighter emerald tones, before opened your eyes slowly._

Green eyes stared back at you, wide with concern, and you wanted to hug him, cling to him, but your body didn’t want to move. You gave up on the urge almost immediately when you became aware of your position. You were both wrapped tightly inside a pile of blankets, lying on your sides facing each other, the front of your bodies flush against each other. A particularly violent shiver wracked through you. When it did, your skin shifted against him, and you registered just how little fabric separated you both. Judging by the areas where you made skin contact and where fabric separated you, the two of you were almost completely nude, clad only in underclothes. You quickly realized that he was sharing his body heat with you by making direct skin to skin contact. The small amount of clothing was only there to provide some sort of decency.

                “W-w-where’d y-you go?” You asked accusingly.

                “I’m the one who should be asking _you_ that.” He sounded angry, and you noted his lack of a stutter. Anger made him more sure of himself, more determined, you realized. You hadn’t seen him truly angry before, not like this. “You could have died.” What were you doing before this? You couldn’t remember where you had been going, what had just been happening. “Noah,” he pressed, clearly expecting a response. Why was his voice so deep now?

                “I’m N-Noah?” That seemed wrong. Undeniably wrong.

                “It’s normal for her to be confused,” said a feminine voice from somewhere else in the room. “Hypothermia does that. But she’s awake now, so that means she’s recovering really fast.”

                “What’re you babying these brats for, Petra?”

                “Stop trying to talk like Captain Levi, Oluo.” Petra replied sternly, before continuing. “Bertholdt, we weren’t able to find any dry wood, so we won’t be able to start a fire. That makes this our best option. Are you sure you’re okay with this? It was only supposed to be a short term solution. If you’re not, we can figure something else out.”

                “I’m sure.”

                Your eyes closed as you heard them talking things over, falling asleep again almost immediately after you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where the strings of fate belief comes from:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_string_of_fated
> 
>  
> 
> More smut within the next few chapters.  
> Also, the first of MANY big reveals.   
> Please leave your thoughts in the comments!


	15. Restlessness and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter, since the character is honestly not supposed to be the best at handling emotions, so I guess some deeper personal issues the character experiences are hinted at rather than expressly stated. I also wanted to make it apparent that while the character herself doesn't perceive her actions to be cause for concern, they actually are. Particularly how she doesn't think her 'quick run' was that big of a deal, when a person running that far in real life is pretty unusual, especially if its not meant to be a part of a race or other competition. So I wanted to write the character as having an inaccurate self-image, even though she's still rather gifted as far as accurately perceiving other people.
> 
> I'm not sure how effectively I managed to do this.

 

                You woke up with Bertholdt completely wrapped around you. His arms and legs encircled you, and he was clutching you in a nearly vice like grip, your arms pinned to your sides. His face was buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his sleep-deepened breath brushing over your bare collarbones. Apparently he still slept in strange positions even if he was sharing a bed with someone. Daylight streamed through the windows, immediately setting your heartrate through the roof as familiar panic set in. Your panic was quelled quickly by Bertholdt’s completely relaxed presence and the rhythms of his breath, but a lingering nervousness settled in your stomach.

                You struggled to remember the events from the night before, but the last thing you could recall was crossing onto the grounds surrounding the Survey Corp headquarters. You had no trouble piecing the general picture together, though. You had been found unconscious as a result of hypothermia, and the quickest way to raise your body temperature had been to share body heat. By doing so, he had saved your life for the second time in a week.

                This left you with conflicting thoughts and feelings. The last time he had saved you, he had spent the night with you only to disappear for several days afterwards. He had left you alone with your demons, demons which had awakened with a vengeance after the events of the battle in Trost. He was providing respite from your demons now by being with you, but he had left after spending the night with you last time, and you presumed he would repeat that pattern. You wanted to be here with him now, where you felt safe and cared for. Yet your heart ached, knowing that this would not last. You wouldn’t ask him to stay if he didn’t want to. He had saved you enough, and he didn’t need to save you from your demons as well.

                _Was I even worth saving? I was useless during that battle. My squad could have evacuated everyone without me, they would have been fine. I probably slowed them down when I didn’t use as much gas as them. What if it’s my fault we couldn’t evacuate that last section in time? What if we had gotten there sooner? We might have made it over the wall if we had, they might not have died._

You immediately forced the thoughts from your mind, refusing to acknowledge it again. It was a thought that had persisted since you found Elaine in the cluster of—

                _No, stop thinking about this._

You squirmed in Bertholdt’s embrace, your overwhelming restlessness returning. You wanted, no, _needed,_ to run. Running was the only thing that quieted your mind, that brought you some sense of equilibrium. Running may have been the cause of your current situation, but that didn’t make it any less vital to your peace of mind.

                You felt Bertholdt’s breathing pattern change against your neck, losing its slow steady rhythm. He was waking up. You bit your lip and fought back the sense of dread rippling through you. Once he woke up, it meant he would probably leave you alone again.

                “N-Noah?” His voice was thick with sleep, and you fought back the rush of affection you felt for the man. He disentangled himself from you hurriedly once he realized the position he was in, sitting up in the bed beside you, and you quietly mourned the loss of contact. You turned your head to look at him without sitting up, your eyes meeting his. Something was different, and it seemed important, although you couldn’t understand why. You couldn’t tell what was different—and maybe nothing had changed since the last time you had seen him. Maybe you were different, somehow? “H-How do y-you feel?”

                “Fine,” you lied. Your body ached, and you were still incredibly tired, despite your restlessness and your urges to move. You wanted to get out of the bed, but you felt sluggish, and you were now acutely aware of your state of dress. “Where are my clothes?”

                “Petra brought them by earlier. I think she left them in the desk chair.”

                You pushed the covers away from your body, causing Bertholdt to cover his eyes with a yelp, before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and climbing out. “It’s not like you didn’t see me naked last night,” you said, feeling defensive and no longer seeing the point in modesty. You crossed the room in a few short strides, finding your clothes folded neatly in the chair he had mentioned.

                “I d-didn’t look! A-and P-Petra is the one who u-undre—” he couldn’t seem to finish the last of the sentence, and you laughed softly.

                “Always the gentleman,” you remarked as you started to retrieve your shirt, stopping short when you saw your necklace laying on top of the pile of clothes. You picked it up, tracing your finger over the letters there.

                “Commander Erwin wants to see you as soon as you’re capable,” Bertholdt said hurriedly, his eagerness to change the subject apparent. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him still covering his eyes, his back turned towards you. You trailed your eyes over his back, shamelessly taking in the image of taught muscle and smooth skin.

                “Probably to discuss punishment,” you said grimly, putting the necklace on before redressing. “Why are you angry?”

                “I’m not.”

                “Yes, you are. You stutter when you’re nervous, which is most of the time. The exception to that is when you’re angry. You’ve in a room with a nearly naked girl all night, you should be nervous, yet your stutter has completely disappeared.” He didn’t reply. “I’ll ask again. Why are you angry?”

                “Because you almost died.”

                “And?”

                “And what?”

                “I almost died a few days ago, too. You still stuttered then. But you didn’t stutter when you mentioned the commander.”

                “I just think he should let you rest more.”

                “You’re angry because you think I’m, what, going to keel over?”

                “Noah,” he said sternly, making it apparent that he didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. This surprised you, as reprimanding was usually an action he reserved for when he was speaking to Reiner.

                “You don’t have to keep protecting me.”

                “I want to.”

                “Allow me to rephrase. Stop protecting me if you’re going to disappear afterwards.” You couldn’t keep the hurt out of your voice.

                 He turned around to face you, eyes fixing on yours, confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

                “I mean that you don’t get to act like a hero and then leave for days at a time. I don’t need a hero to save me, I need a friend.” He was silent for a long moment, and you could see him mentally struggling with something.

                “I saved you because I _am_ your friend. I won’t leave again.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I-I’m n-not the best with people.”

                You dragged your hand through your hair, a wave of regret washing over you.

                “No, you’re not… but I’m not being fair to you, either. I’m sorry, Bertl.”

                “I-I saw wh-what the battle did to y-you… I should h-have been there a-after.” You had hoped to avoid talking about the actual personal impact of the battle. You took a deep, albeit shaky, breath to calm yourself, bowing your head so he wouldn’t see the distress you were feeling in your facial expression.

                “You had to deal with it too, though. Reiner said to give you time, and I should have.”

                “N-Noah,” he said slowly. “I should have st-stayed. I-It would h-have been b-better for b-both of us.”

                “You… You needed me, too.” The realization hit you hard, sending you reeling. You looked up, seeing him nodding, looking almost defeated.

                “Reiner said I should work through it on my own.” He didn’t stutter. He’s angry at Reiner? You decided not to pry, as the look on his face told you that it was something he didn’t want to discuss any further, and was in fact only saying so as an explanation for why he hadn’t been around.

                You took a calming breath again before crossing to where he sat on the edge of the bed. You sat beside him. “Reiner is an idiot,” you murmured as you took Bertholdt’s hand and laced your fingers with his own. He merely nodded in agreement, hesitating before leaning down and planting a barely-there kiss on the top of your head.

**

                Half an hour later, you were both walking down a long hallway towards Commander Erwin’s office. Bertholdt escorted you there, keeping his facial expression carefully neutral despite the small beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. When you reached the closed door at the end of the hall, he knocked quietly. Erwin’s voice came from within, saying a muffled ‘come in’. Bertholdt opened the door slightly, allowing you to step into the room. Erwin looked at you both calmly, setting aside some paperwork he had been reading over.

                “Please shut the door behind you when you leave,” he said to Bertholdt, who nodded and did as asked.

**

                That night at dinner, you caught Reiner and Bertholdt up on your current situation.

“I’m not allowed to leave the grounds for two months unless I have supervision from a commanding officer. I’m to clean out the stables each day for the next two weeks. My rations are reduced. I’m also supposed to have someone with me at all hours of the day for the next week so they can be sure there’s no lasting damage from hypothermia. I’m not allowed to have any more than 5 minutes unsupervised.”

                “That seems like a bit much.” Reiner replied. You shrugged in response.

                “I got off easy.” After looking at your military records compared to your recent behavior, the Commander had decided that your actions had been the product of having a hard time coping with the events of Trost. He was particularly concerned with the impulsive decision to go on what was intended to be a 24 mile run, which you found amusing. While it was longer than your usual runs, you didn’t think it was anything to be worried about. You had done worse. You decided not to say this to him, though. You also decided not to inform him that you weren’t having difficulty with the events of Trost, but rather your own ineffectiveness as a soldier. You looked at Bertholdt, now feeling a little bit sheepish. He took a swig from his cup, presumably to fill the awkward pause that ensued. You continued on hurriedly, following a ‘rip the bandage off’ mentality. “And… since you’re the person most familiar with my behavior, they wanted you to be the one to supervise me.”

                Reiner laughed as Bertholdt choked on his drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think in the comments! This was a chapter that was honestly way harder to write than I anticipated. I'm not sure how well I managed to execute this chapter. :(
> 
> I should be able to update more frequently now, as some rather consuming situations in my life have now passed.
> 
> Major plot points (followed by smut later on) within the next few chapters.


	16. Three Things

                You could do a lot in 5 minutes-- That was the maximum amount of time you were allowed to have unsupervised, if you needed a privacy break. It was enough time to complete most of the embarrassing parts of everyday life that you didn’t want anyone to be around for. However, some things simply took more time.

                For example, bathing.

                At the end of his first day guarding you, Bertholdt sat on a wooden stool in the women’s bathing area, his back to you as you sat submerged in a tub full of hot, soapy water.

                “Calm down. You’re sweating through your shirt.” You tried not to let the amusement you felt at his expense color your tone, but you also knew that you failed miserably. “It’s really not that big of a deal. Hell, you can turn around for all I care.”

                “This d-doesn’t bother y-you?”

                “What?” You questioned, focusing more on rinsing the suds from your hair than on his inquiry.

                “L-lack of privacy.”

                “You do realize we cuddled mostly naked, right? If it were anybody else, it might bother me.” You cringed when you realized just how intimate that statement—no, that _admission_ —was. You saw his posture go rigid, and you felt a sense of dread. You may have just unintentionally crossed a line he wasn’t comfortable with. He might even go to Erwin and request that somebody else guard you. You wouldn’t blame him.

                “R-really?” He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “It’s j-just that… y-you h-hated when I s-saw …” he didn’t finish the sentence.

                “The scars on my legs? I have a lot more than those. I didn’t like you seeing them because I don’t even know how I got them.” There was a heavy silence, stretching on for a long time. You stared at his back as you gave your hair one final rinse, amusing yourself by noting how often he fidgeted in place. You rose from the tub, stepping out onto the bathmat and grabbing your towel. You dried off quickly, redressing immediately afterwards. “I’m dressed, you don’t have to look away.” You said, picking up your comb off the counter and dragging it through your hair as you turned around to look at him. “I’m sorry that I got you into this situation,” you added on. He turned, his eyes locked on yours, and your face flushed.

                “You r-really d-don’t know how y-you got them?” He finally asked.

                “No.”

                “Do you remember a-anything?”

                “No.” He looked skeptical. You hesitated. “Bertholdt, everything I know about myself comes from what Carol told me. And most of what she knew was stuff I told her before I lost my memory. I don’t even know my real name.” You admitted.

                “I-it’s not N-Noah G-Grayson?”

                “No. Grayson was Carol’s last name, I just took it when she took me in. And Noah… It’s the name I told Carol when I showed up.” You chuckled softly. “She told me that I had my hair cut short, and that I dressed in boy’s clothing when I first showed up. She didn’t know I was a girl for months. When she finally found out, she couldn’t get me to tell her my real name.” You turned back to face the counter, setting the comb down and picking up your necklace. You slipped it over your head, and under your shirt, before you turned to look at him.

                “T-that’s…” he started to speak before apparently deciding against doing so, eyes averted, his discomfort evident.

                “It’s fine.” You lied. Some part of you had secretly hoped he’d somehow have some insight into your past, although that hope was irrational and fueled by the lingering sense of déjà vu you felt when you looked at him. “Forget about it.”

                He sighed, but then smiled softly. He extended his hand to you.

                “N-Noah… Let’s g-go to b-bed.” You found yourself smiling back, placing your hand in his and interlocking your fingers together, letting him lead you to his bedroom. You were both sleeping there now, at least until you were allowed to be on your own again.

**

                “Bertl?” You whispered early the next morning. You had woken up with a question burning in your mind. He hummed in response, not moving from his strange sleeping position. He was laying on his stomach. His arms were splayed out to either side, legs stretched out at full length but tucked underneath his body so that he was bent over at the waist. His head was resting on his shins, his face turned sideways facing you. “Why are you still nervous around me? You stutter when you’re nervous, and you stutter every time we talk, but it’s been three years…”

                “W-why do you a-ask?” he mumbled tiredly, finally opening his eyes. After a second, he untwisted from his previous stance, and moved so he was laying on his side, facing you. You smiled slightly at his half-awake state of mind—he was aware right now, and would remember the conversation later, but he was going to fall asleep again as soon as the conversation ended. You felt a rush of affection for the man.

                “Because I don’t want you to be nervous with me.” You replied.

                “Y-you rem-mind me of s-somebody I u-used to know.” He answered, eyes darkening with memory. “I-I d-don’t w-want you to e-end up l-like she d-did.”

                “I’m sorry,” you whispered, seeing how much he was affected. You quietly brushed back the hair from his face with one hand in an effort to provide some sort of comfort. He leaned into the touch, and you repositioned yourself in the bed so that you were closer to him, silently pulling him into an embrace. He fell asleep again quickly, just as you knew he would. Whenever he started to move in his sleep, presumably from nightmares, you gently combed your fingers through his hair until he relaxed again. While his mind was, for the most part, restful, yours was not. One thought kept running through your head.

                _He stutters because I’m too much like her—and that scares him._

               

**

                “Up for a game?” Reiner asked, gesturing towards the chess set. Bertholdt had just beat him at the game for the third time in a row, at which point the taller boy had politely declined another rematch, saying that he was tired and wanted to let somebody else play.

                “Sure,” you responded with a shrug, taking the chair that Bertholdt had formerly occupied. You scooted the chair closer to the table so that you could reach. You were much smaller than its former occupant. Reiner had already put the pieces back in their appropriate positions, and you frowned slightly as you waited to see what he would do next, since he had the white pieces and white went first. He started moving one of the pawns in the middle forward by two squares, taking advantage of the rule allowing players to move their first piece an extra space if it was a pawn.

                _As direct as always, I see._ You calmly moved one of the outer edge pawns forward one space. _All I have to do is wait for you to drop your guard._

                Within a few minutes, he had captured your queen, one of your bishops, and both of your knights. He was grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and you simply smiled, moving your remaining bishop into position.

                “Check,” you said calmly.

                “What?” He said in disbelief, and looked down at the board. “How did you…?” He frowned in concentration, moving his king to another space. You moved one of your rooks.

                “Checkmate.”

                “How did you do that?” He was scrutinizing you closely.

                “You were so focused on attacking that you left one side of your defense open. And you got cocky after you took out my queen.” He looked stunned. “If it makes you feel any better, you could easily kick my ass in a real fight. Chess is probably the only ‘battle’ I’d win in against you.”

                “I’d like to see that fight,” Connie said from behind you. You jolted slightly, turning to look at the others in the room. Several of your comrades were watching the exchange between you and Reiner. Apparently Reiner’s rather loud response to your game of chess had caught their interest.

                “She’s not a fighter. She only did okay in hand-to-hand combat because Bertholdt went easy on her.” Jean said, smirking. Your cheeks flushed, angry at the implication that Bertholdt would allow you to win—even if it was probably the truth.

                “He’s right, Connie. Physical strength isn’t my thing.” You said with a shrug.

                “N-No, it’s not.” Bertholdt said quietly. “Y-you’re fast, th-though. And sm-smart. Y-you could b-beat him.” You turned to look at him, frowning slightly. _He wants me to fight. Why?_

“Well, why don’t we see?” Reiner slapped your back, sending you forward several inches, as usual. You didn’t think you would ever get used to that. “I have to get even with you for that chess match.”

                “Okay. Meet me in the courtyard in 15 minutes?” You said, noticing the grins from your fellow soldiers. Petra looked at you all disapprovingly, but said nothing. Oluo muttered something about ‘stupid brats’, but you could tell by his face that he actually wanted to see this fight as well.

                “Sure.” Reiner’s response was accompanied by a wider grin than usual. You left the room quickly, Bertholdt beside you. Once you were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear you, you stepped in front of Bertholdt, facing him, causing him to come to a stop.

                “Alright, what’s your game?”

                “W-what?”

                “Why do you want me to fight Reiner?”

                “I th-thought y-you both might l-like to.”

                “If you won’t tell me the real reason now, then tell me after the fight.”

                “I will,” he promised. You smiled slyly as an idea sparked to life in your mind, and you stepped further into his personal space. His eyes widened, and his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t step away. You reached up, cupping your hand around the back of his neck. He leaned down slightly, and you kissed him softly. He kissed back, moving his lips to caress yours tentatively, much to your surprise. Although he occasionally kissed the top of your head, or allowed you to kiss him on the lips, he had never actively responded when you kissed him. He pulled away first, and although the exchange had not been strenuous, you felt almost winded because of how taken aback you were by his actions.

                “So.” You said, taking a moment to regain control of your voice. “Let’s make this more interesting, shall we?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Let’s bet on the fight. If I lose, what do you want?”

                “For you to tell me three things Carol told you about yourself.” He said immediately.

                “Alright,” you said slowly. “But if I win…” Your smile returned. “Then I want you to kiss me.”

                “I just did,” he said, looking confused.

                “No. _I_ kissed _you._ There’s a difference.”

                “Deal.” He smiled in amusement.

**

                Reiner’s fist came flying forward, going straight for your stomach. You had been sparring for a couple of minutes now, him attacking, and you dodging and blocking his attacks as best as you could. Even though you had the wooden knife in this situation, and should have been able to do more ‘damage’ in the fictional setting, he was still the more dangerous of the two of you. You honestly had to stop yourself from reminding him that this was supposed to be a simple sparring exercise, and not an actual fight. _You_ were supposed to be the attacker—not him. You stepped backwards, twisting your body sideways so that you narrowly avoided the blow. You took another step back as his other arm came forward in a right hook. You ducked beneath it, stepping behind him. When he began to turn to follow you, you hooked your calf around one of his while his balance was off, quickly taking advantage of his shifting weight. You pulled your leg back towards your body while it was still hooked around his. He fell with a grunt.

                You went to press the fake blade to his throat, ‘winning’ the fight. He grabbed your wrist tight enough to leave a bruise before the wood made contact with his skin, roughly wrenching the knife away with his other hand. He was scowling, and for a second you saw pure hate in his eyes.

                 “Reiner!” Bertholdt yelled, clearly alarmed.

                 The hatred in Reiner’s eyes disappeared immediately, replaced by a look of playful pride.

                 “Looks like you win, since I wasn’t able to end it. I’d hate to be in a real fight with you, Reiner.” You plastered a grin on your face, keeping your tone light. _Something is very wrong with him right now,_ you noted, filing the thought away for later consideration. _And Bertholdt knows what it is, judging by his reaction. Probably stress after Trost._

                “That was no fun—Noah threw the match.” Connie said from the sidelines where the others had been watching. _Was it so obvious that you were holding back?_

**

                “Why did you want me to fight Reiner?” You asked Bertholdt as you both sat up in bed that night.

                “I-I wanted you to see th-that you c-could win.” He replied, face lit with the warm light of the oil lantern sitting on the nightstand. “Wh-why did you hold b-back?”

                “At first, I just wanted to let you win the bet. I knew how much you wanted to know more, so I figured there’d be no harm in it. But then… with the way he was fighting… matching his force wouldn’t have been wise. One of us would have definitely been hurt.”

                “I-I didn’t kn-know he w-would do that.”

                “I figured as much.” You sighed, deciding to change the subject. “You won the bet, so I guess I’ll tell you three things like I promised. Anything specific you want to know?”

                “N-no. J-just anything.”

                “Okay,” you took a deep breath. “I used to run even more than I do now. Carol said I would disappear before the sun came up and show up again as night was falling. Sometimes I’d come back with berries or nuts, if I found them while I was out.” You paused, trying to think of another thing you could tell him.

                “I was traveling from the northeast, heading south to Shiganshina, when I met Carol. I told her I was going down to meet with someone within a couple years, but I never told her who they were. I told her I was only going to be in her town for a week or two… clearly, I was wrong. I stayed for about a year, according to her. If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”

                “Alright, last thing I’ll tell you…” you frowned slightly, reaching up to your neck and tugging your necklace out from beneath your shirt. “I told Carol that a friend of mine gave this to me… It’s steel. He taught me how to find flint, too, so that I could make fire. All because I was—”

                You were silenced as his lips crashed down onto yours. You felt yourself melt immediately, and you tried to keep up with his almost frantic pace. This felt right, and natural, and why hadn’t he done this before? When he finally broke the kiss, he pulled back just enough to be able to look you in the eyes, both of you left breathless. Tears streamed freely down his face. _Why is he crying? And… why am I crying, too?_

                “I gave it to you because you were afraid of the dark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I value your input!


	17. An Oak Giant

                You sat there for a few long moments, stunned. His eyes were brighter than you had ever seen them, his smile genuine and unhindered even as more tears continued to stream down his cheeks. You said nothing, simply reaching up and cupping one side of his face. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbones, wiping away the tears there, and he leaned into your touch slightly. Before this conversation, he had been timid with you—now there was no hesitation as he returned your affections.

                “I can’t remember anything, but I swear… I will spend every day getting to know you again.” You bit your lip. “I love you.”

                “I love you, too.” He laid down, pulling you with him, his fingers carding through your hair soothingly. His fingers brushed the ridge of scar tissue hidden there, the memorial of who you once were, and a reminder of who you continued to be. You had never seen him so certain of himself, and it made your heart race. It was the same feeling as when you were training with the gear, or when you were running—as if the world was falling away, and the only thing left was the present moment. Here was somebody who had seen you before and after the loss of your memory, who truly knew who you were. You hadn’t realized just how lonely you had felt until this moment, when that loneliness was finally lifting.

                “Hey, Bertholdt?”

                “Yeah?”

                “What was my name?”

                “Amara Fischer.” He kissed the top of your head.

                “Can you still call me Noah? I’m not ready for anybody else to know.” you murmured quietly. He hummed in agreement, and you nestled your face in the crook of his neck. You found sleep with him, lured into rest by the smell of sweat and something woodsy that always accompanied him.

**

                The grass was wet with dew, shining like glass. There were no stars in the sky, yet somehow, everything was crystal clear. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze and hearing how still the night was. It was perfect for a run.

                You started slow, a few timid steps into the grass. The ground seemed to move beneath your feet, but you didn’t mind. You moved into a jog, and then a sprint. It wasn’t long until you were far away from the doorstep of the castle, where your journey had started. You had begun to ascend a hill, with a slope neither steep nor gentle. A large oak tree stood atop it, proud and noble.

                That was when things started to fall apart. _Literally._

                The short heels of your boots pierced the ground, and they stuck there. When you wrenched them free, there were holes left in the ground, and light shined up through the gaps, the thin rays of dim light released from them shining far into the sky. You stared as they slowly began to grow wider, the earth at the edges crumbling away. You started to run again, run for that hill, where you were certain safety lied, where you could cling to the tree waiting there. As you did, larger and larger holes permeated the earth.

                You reached the hill top, but before you could reach the trunk, climb to safety, you were falling through the holes you had punctured. You were resigned to falling infinitely, but you felt your fall abruptly halted almost as soon as it had begun.

                The roots of the oak had laid waiting beneath the earth, and had remained to catch you once it all fell away.

**

                “Oak,” you mumbled the next morning.

                “Mmmphf?” came a muffled groan from beside you.

                “You smell like oak trees.” You clarified, sitting up a moment later and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You glanced over and immediately laughed. Bertholdt was half off the bed, his upper body almost flat to the floor while his lower half stretched across the narrow mattress you had been sharing. Your laughter prompted him to climb the rest of the way off the mattress, standing up and frowning at you. Your gaze wandered over his face, trying to memorize each detail about him. “Tell me about back then?” The question was out of your mouth before you could even process that you planned on asking it.

                “What do you want to know?” He asked, laying down on the bed next to you, staring at the ceiling. He looked almost wary, which told you what you already suspected—the past was not a happy place for you. You decided not to ask anything that was likely to venture into darker places, such as where you had gotten your scars from.

                “How did we become friends?” You decided this was likely a safe question, and your thoughts were confirmed as he visibly relaxed.

                “We were neighbors, and we went to the same school. We didn’t really talk much, until…” He chuckled slightly. “An older kid called me a ‘sweaty weirdo’, so you got into a fist fight with him. We were 6, and he was 9, so you lost pretty badly… but we were always together after that.” He looked over at you, immediately noticing your smile. “What?” He asked.

                _You’re not stuttering, so you’re not nervous around me anymore._

“Nothing,” you lied.

                “You know that I’ll tell you as much as you want to know,” he said after a long moment.

                “I only want to know a little bit at a time.” You took his hand quietly. “I found you. That’s all I care about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short because I wanted to cut it off early instead of including smut in this chapter. The next chapter is mostly smut. Then the chapter after that is smut.


	18. How Could I Not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turn back now if you don't want smut. There's only about three paragraphs of it here, but that's because it's a bridge into the next chapter, which is 100% smut.

After the five days of constant supervision were done, you sighed in relief. You were finally allowed to have time on your own again. At the end of the last day, you celebrated by taking a shower—you had only been able to take baths before, as the shower stalls had a door on the outside, and neither wall nor door could separate you and Bertholdt for longer than 5 minutes under the terms of your five-day observation period.

                Now you sighed under the spray, tilting your face out of the stream and letting the water run down your back. Five days where every second was spent with the man you loved had been both a blessing and a curse. When you were with other people, it was okay… but by the night of the third day, your nerves were on fire when he touched you, your body reacting to even the slightest of contact with him. Yet you couldn’t stop torturing yourself. You still kissed him, still eagerly responded when he kissed you, all the while wondering what would happen if you just let your hands wander along his body, wondering whether he would be pleased or if he would be uncomfortable. At night when you curled up together before falling asleep, and you were separated from him by only a few sparse layers of clothing, you would wonder what his bare body would feel like against your own.

                You groaned in frustration as you pondered this, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to gain some friction, some relief, as you showered. The only thing this did was fuel the fire. You needed release.

                Maybe you could…? No, you had never done that before, and you wouldn’t now. But that was silly—there was truly no harm in it, it was natural.

                You hesitated a moment before you gave in, reaching down between your legs with a feeling of embarrassment. You felt dirty doing this, thinking of Bertholdt in this way, especially when he had no clue what effect he had on you every time you two touched. The embarrassment disappeared, however, the moment your hand made contact with your sex. You shivered, gently exploring your folds with light touches. You traced your fingertips over the delicate flesh of your inner labia, then up to your clit.

                You whimpered the moment you made contact with the little bundle of nerves, your knees nearly buckling. You bit your lip, taking a second to regain your composure—you had been caught off guard by just how good it felt. You closed your eyes before continuing, thinking of Bertholdt. What would his hands feel like on you? They were bigger than your own, his fingers long and nimble. You angled your hand differently, pressing the tip of your middle finger against your entrance as the heel of your hand made contact with your clit. You circled your hole lightly with your fingertip before carefully easing the first digit in. Your hips bucked slightly of their own volition, forcing your finger deeper inside you and your clit to grind against your palm. You gasped, immediately deciding that you liked the feeling the action brought. Imagining that it was Bertholdt’s hands bringing you such a wonderful feeling, you began to move your hand against your core in a slow but insistent rhythm.

                It took only minutes for you to notice tension building up in your lower abdomen, a tight coil waiting to be released. You moved your hand faster, feeling your walls beginning to clench uncomfortably tight around the one finger you had inserted, wanting for something thicker and more satisfying. “B-Bertholdt!” You came hard, your mind going blank as you gasped the name out, calling out for someone who wasn’t there. You moaned as your orgasm took over in waves, leaning your body against the wall of the stall in an attempt to regain your balance as your legs turned to jelly.

                “Noah!” The door to the shower room burst open, slamming against the wall as somebody entered. “What’s wrong?!” Footsteps were coming towards the stall, and you quickly removed your hand from between your legs, even as your sex continued to quiver. Your legs were shaky and you were powerless to stop the door to the stall from being opened a split-second later.

                “N-Nothing!” You stuttered out, shame burning over your face. You couldn’t meet the green eyes staring down at you. Bertholdt reached an arm out, obviously about to try and loop it around your waist to give you support in case you were dizzy. You shrank away from it. “I’m fine! I’m fine!”

                “But I heard you call,” he said, sounding thoroughly confused. You finally managed to look at him, and you could see his eyes sweep over you, searching for some sign of injury, even as his face flushed red and sweat began to shine on his forehead in response to your state of undress.

                “B-Bertholdt… there’s nothing wrong with me.” You said slowly, hoping that he would put two and two together. You saw realization dawn on his face after a painfully long moment, his eyes widening as beads of sweat began to roll down his neck.

                “Oh—th-that’s all y-you were…? Why didn’t you just s-say so?” You didn’t answer, instead reaching back and turning off the water.

                “Could you hand me my towel?” You asked, feeling small. He turned, picking it up off the hook on the wall, before handing it to you. You wrapped it around yourself tightly, blinking rapidly as embarrassed tears pricked the back of your eyes.

                “I-it’s not a big d-deal, N-Noah…”

                “Then why is your stutter back? You only stutter when you’re nervous.” You had made him uncomfortable enough that any progress you had made had been undone.

                “B-because how on earth could y-you w-want me?” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

                “How could I not?” You replied, stunned at his response. He looked down at you, his expression grim, unreadable thoughts circling behind his eyes. “It’s… it’s really not that big of a deal?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

                “No.” He said without hesitation.

                “Do you want me, too?” You couldn’t believe you just asked him that. You mentally shook yourself.

                “How could I not?” He used your own words, effectively stating that you were both the same in this matter. You sighed before hugging him tightly, catching him off guard as you molded your body against his.

                “Can we go to bed now?” You were tired, and you wanted nothing more than to be with him right now.

                “We can, but you’re allowed to sleep alone now if you want,” he reminded you, returning your embrace and tangling his fingers into your wet hair. The tone of his voice and the way he held onto you told you that he did want you to stay with him. 

                “I don’t want to.” You looked up at him. “I don’t have as many nightmares when I sleep with you.”

                “Alright. I’ll meet you in my room, I-I have to take care of something real fast.”

                You quirked a brow at him questioningly, and he smiled back sheepishly. It was at that moment that you registered hips were tilted away from you, his pelvis not making contact at all. _Of course he’s turned on, he just heard you saying his name in the middle of an orgasm…_

                “Or…” you could hardly believe you were about to let these words come out of your mouth. “I could, ah, help you?” You couldn’t make eye contact with him afterwards.

                “I-if you want t-to.”

                “Let’s go to bed, Bertholdt.” You stepped back and quickly dressed yourself, before taking his hand and letting him lead you down the hall.


	19. Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, y'all. This chapter is pure smut.

                You redressed as quickly as you could before cracking the door to the bathroom open and peeking out. There was nobody in the hall, and you slipped out into the corridor, Bertholdt following behind you. You took his hand, and he smiled down at you. Wordlessly, the two of you walked towards his room. Tension was permeable between you, and although neither of you would admit to it, it required enormous restraint on both of your parts not to run rather than walk.

                When you finally reached his room, he opened the door, walking in ahead of you and lighting the lamp beside the bed while you locked the door, as had been your custom during the duration of your nights with him. You turned to face him when the door was locked, and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, blowing out the match he had used to light the lamp. You made your way over to him, quietly climbing into his lap and straddling him. He seemed almost surprised by the forwardness of your actions, and in truth, you had surprised yourself as well. You leaned in to kiss him, and he met you halfway, his lips moving against yours hungrily. His hands came to rest on your hips, almost hesitantly at first, before his grasp on them tightened slightly and he pulled your further into his lap. You gasped as the fronts of your bodies were pressed flush against each other, the apex of your parted thighs now seated directly against his erection, separated only by your clothing.

                You broke the kiss to look at him, surprised, and saw the pure desire on his face. His pupils were blown wide, green eyes darkened with lust. You bit your lip at the look in his eyes, at the pure need displayed there. You needed him just as much. Wordlessly, you slipped your hand under the hem of his shirt, trailing your nails over the taught muscles gained from years of training. He pulled the shirt over his head, and you followed his lead and removed your own. The moment you were freed from its confines, his lips locked onto the soft skin of your neck, kissing roughly. His warm, work-hardened hands found the clasps at the back of your bra, and quickly undid them. He nipped lightly at your neck, pushing the straps down off of your shoulders before tossing the bra aside. He pulled away from your neck, glancing down at your breasts before cupping them in his warm, rough palms as he started to kiss you again. He squeezed gently before shifting his hands slightly so that he could brush his thumbs over your hardened nipples. You rolled your hips against him, needing to ease the ache he was bringing you. He groaned, a deep and primal sound, and you swore that you could practically feel your heart beating between your legs at the sound. You repeated the action, but his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you still.

                “Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, looking into your eyes.

                “Yes,” you said immediately, almost embarrassingly quick. You had never been so sure of anything in your life. This was Bertholdt. This was the man that you loved so much that it hurt, the man you had known since long before the beginning of your memories, the man who you wanted to grow old with, if you both managed to survive long enough.

                He smiled at your response, before quietly moving you off of his lap. “There’s something I want to do first,” he murmured as he sat you on the edge of the bed. He unbuttoned your pants, fumbling with the button for a second. When he got it undone, you lifted your hips as he tugged your pants, and undergarments, off in one fluid movement. Your face flushed as he gently placed his hands on your knees, coaxing your legs open before kneeling in front of you.

                “B-Bertl?” You questioned. He leaned in and kissed your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your core. “What are y— _oh_ ,” you were unable to finish the question, as he licked a long stripe over your slit, effectively causing your mind to shut down. One of his hands reached up to join his mouth, parting your outer lips so that he had better access to your clit. He kissed the small bundle of nerves softly, before gently sucking it in between his lips. A moan ripped out of you, and your fingers wound into his hair, urging him on. He chuckled quietly before releasing your clit and licking your core in broad stripes, ending at your clit each time, before focusing on licking only your clit again. “B-Bertho-oldt,” you gasped, feeling your thighs quiver as your body tensed.

                “Feel good?” He murmured as he pulled back slightly, looking up into your eyes.

                “Y-yes,” you whispered breathlessly.

                “Good,” he replied. He continued to gaze into your eyes as he slowly lifted a hand to stroke a single finger down the length of your slit. When it reached your hole, already soaking wet, he carefully pushed the digit in, slowly sinking it into you. You whimpered, need coursing through your veins.

                “Still good?” He asked, slightly concerned by your reaction. You nodded. “Tell me if I need to stop, or if anything hurts, okay?”

                “Okay,” you replied. With that, he pulled his finger out half way before sinking it into you again. His tongue returned to licking your clit. The combination of his fingers and his tongue working on you left you breathless. When he added a second finger, it was your undoing.

                You came with a loud moan, your fingers still tangled into Bertholdt’s hair as his lips and fingers continued to pleasure you, helping you ride out your orgasm. When you were finished, Bertholdt removed his fingers from you, giving your oversensitive clit one final kiss before he stood. He licked his lips, then brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean. You stared at him, still unable to form coherent sentences, mesmerized by his current actions. 

                “Bertholdt,” you finally managed to speak, saying his name as if it were a precious secret, or perhaps a prayer. Your voice was shaky, but your hands were steady as you unbuttoned his pants, slowly starting to push them down over his hips, where they pooled around his knees. He shuffled them the rest of the way down his long legs, stepping out of them afterwards, clad only in his boxers now. You again bit your lip, anticipation and anxiety warring inside you when you saw just how very big the bulge in his boxers was, the fabric that pressed against the head of his cock slightly damp from precum. You pushed those, too, off of his body.

                Your eyes widened. His cock was at least 8 inches long, and quite thick. Unthinkingly, you traced the underside lightly with a fingertip, starting from the seam of his balls to his tip. He shivered.

                “S-sorry,” you apologized quickly.

                “D-Don’t be,” he answered. You hesitantly returned to touching him, wrapping your hand loosely around his cock and giving it a careful stroke. He groaned, bucking his hips forward. You repeated the action a few times, watching his face, loving the way his lips parted as his jaw went slack. Sweat beaded on his forehead. You leaned forward, quietly licking the head of his cock as your hand stroked the rest. He tensed, letting out a sharp breath as his hips jerked forward again of their own accord, unintentionally pressing his tip against your lips. You parted them, taking the tip inside and sucking lightly. You bobbed your head to take more of him in, pulling back until you felt the ridge where the head of his cock connected to the rest of his shaft against the inside of your lips, before bobbing your head forward once more. The man standing in front of you practically growled before letting out a strangled “Noah, wait” pass through gritted teeth. You pulled away from him with a slight ‘pop’ sound.

                “Did I hurt you?” You asked, staring up at him in concern.

                “N-no, fuck, no.” His voice was lower than usual. You idly wondered whether you had heard him swear before this point in time—whether you had or not, he certainly didn’t swear often.

                “Then what’s wrong?” You asked.

                “I don’t want this to be done yet,” he answered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

                “What do you want then?” You asked quietly.

                “You.” Those green eyes stared down at you, soft and full of affection.

                “I’m yours.” You answered. It was true—you loved this man more than you could put into words. In a world where you were uncertain of everything, this was the one thing you were certain of. You loved Bertholdt Hoover, and he loved you. “I’m yours,” you repeated as you scooted yourself into the center of the bed. He followed, hovering over you, his much larger frame dwarfing your own. He was careful to keep the pressure of his body away from you, afraid of hurting you.

                “And I’m yours,” he answered. He leaned down and kissed you, before resting his forehead against yours. “Noah, I have to check again… are you sure about this?”

                “Yes.” You answered, leaning up to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is only my second time writing smut, the first time being earlier in this story. Any comments, feedback, or suggestions would be greatly appreciated. The next chapter is going to be smut as well.


	20. Continuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter continuing where the last one left off.

He kissed you once more, soft and gentle this time, barely a brush of his lips over your own. He nudged your thighs apart with one of his knees before situating himself between your legs. He reached between your bodies with one hand, taking hold of his erection and lining it up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed forward.

It didn’t hurt, exactly—Bertholdt had been careful to make sure you were aroused and relaxed, that you were _ready._ Mostly, it was a strange but pleasant stretching feeling. Above you, Bertholdt gasped as he bottomed out, his head dropping down to rest in the crook of your neck. You reached up and tangled your fingers into his hair, carding them through it gently.

“N-Noah,” he groaned. His hips twitched slightly, and you could tell he was restraining himself, waiting for permission to continue. By way of giving permission, you rolled your hips, pulling yourself slightly off his cock before taking him in again. He pressed his lips to your neck as he began to move again, slow strokes in and out. The pace was almost agonizingly slow, and you could tell it was for him as well. Hell, you could practically see his shoulders quivering, and as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, you could feel the muscles there were tense.

“Bertholdt?” He pulled back to look at you, concern in his features. “I’m not going to break.” You said, bucking your hips twice in quick succession for emphasis. The more deliberate movement, which you had only intended to use to make a point, actually made you moan. It had felt good before—now, it felt amazing.

“Fuck,” he gasped. You almost grinned at the look on his face, the way his eyes grew glassy and his lips parted.

To say he picked up the pace would have been an understatement. His hands grasped your hips, holding you tightly in place, and you wondered briefly if you would have bruises there tomorrow. His thrusts were sharper, shorter, but also harder and faster. You wrapped your legs around his waist, nails digging into the skin of his back. His face was buried in the crook of your neck again, but now he was purposefully nipping and sucking on the skin there, leaving bright angry marks. You didn’t think this shy man could have a possessive side, but given how many marks he was leaving, he apparently had one after all.

You cried out at a particularly brutal thrust, and his movements halted immediately.

“Are you o—”

“Do that again,” you gasped out. “Please, please, do that again.”

You could swear you almost heard him growl as he complied. You raked your nails down his back.

When he reached between your two bodies, bracing his hand on your pelvis and finding your clit with his thumb, it was your undoing.

You bit his shoulder in an effort to muffle the loud moans that tore their way from your throat as you came. Your walls clenched around him, and abruptly they were clenching around nothing at all. He had pulled out, apparently not a moment too soon as he came immediately after, spilling his cum on your waist. He rolled over to lay beside you, immediately pulling you towards him and holding onto you like a lifeline. His arms encircled you completely as you both tried to catch your breath

“Holy shit,” you finally said, your voice breathy.

“Holy shit,” he agreed. You looked up at him, and he smiled down at you.

“I love you,” you whispered. Almost imperceptibly, his arms tightened around you.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry it's been so long-- Been a bit of a rough time lately. But I'll be back to regular updates within a couple of weeks, since this semester is coming to a close and I'll be back on break again.  
> Honestly, I know that this chapter is a little lack luster. It's short, and I should have just included it in the last chapter instead of trying to split it into two parts.  
> On the bright side, this next chapter is going to have a LOT of feels in it, and it's going to be from Bertholdt's point of view. It's hard to write from Noah's point of view at the moment, as the actual plot of this story takes place mostly 'behind the scenes' if we're looking simply from Noah's perspective.  
> Any comments you have would be incredibly appreciated.


	21. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from Bertholdt's point of view.

I wake up to the sound of crying. Not loud wailing tears, but a quiet rustling of unsteady breath.  
“Please, don’t take…” It takes me a moment to wake up enough to realize the sound is coming from the girl curled up against my chest. “He’ll die…” I can feel every muscle in my body tense.  
“Please, don’t go… Bertl… You’ll die if you go.”  
“Amara, I’ll be back, it’d only be for a little while—”  
“What about Ymir’s curse?” I don’t know what to say. I’m scared of it, but 13 years is a long time away. As I watch her, one of her hands goes up to the steel of her necklace, a habit she’s developed to keep herself calm. She does it whenever she’s scared—whenever soldiers pass, when she is called on in class, when Reiner becomes too enthusiastic about Marley. She’s scared more and more lately, every little thing seems to make her jump.  
“I’ll come back,” I say again, since she’s afraid and I don’t know how to calm her down.  
“I’m not sure I’ll be here.” She says it so quietly that I almost don’t hear her. She is shaking now, and tears are welling up in her eyes. Her grip tightens around the piece of steel, her knuckles standing out stark white against the skin. That’s when I notice that her sleeve has shifted slightly. I can see the edge of a bruise on her wrist, a sickening shade of violet.  
“Did your dad hurt you again?”  
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks somehow more scared. She fixes her sleeve and looks around, as if searching for somebody who might have overheard. We’re sitting on the riverbank, nowhere near her house, and the only person anywhere close is a single Marleyan soldier guarding the gate that leads out of the internment zone. This soldier waves to us, lazily.  
“Bertl?” She asks, and something in her voice sounds bitter. “Am I a bad person?”  
“Of course not! Why would you ask that?”  
“I-I have t-to go,” she says, not bothering to answer, and she stands.  
“Okay, see you tonight?” I ask as I stand as well. Then I see that she’s running, her legs carrying her as fast as she can go. I don’t know why I asked if I’d see her later on, she spends more nights in my house than she does her own.  
That was the last time I saw Amara Fischer.   
“Noah?” I ask, shaking her shoulders gently. It feels like the memory went on for hours, when in reality it had only been a few seconds. After a few tries, her eyes finally open. She stares at me, her eyes wide and still streaming. After a moment, she seems to remember where she is.   
“Bertl,” she finally answers, and she drags the back of her hand over her eyes. “I’m s-sorry, bad dream.”   
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. I slide my hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her. I keep going until I feel the muscles relax. I find a knot in her shoulder and start to work it loose as gently as I can. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I can’t remember any of it,” she says, shaking her head. “I think it might have been something from before Wall Maria fell. I… I didn’t have a happy life before all of this, did I?”  
“When I knew you as Amara, you didn’t. I don’t know about anything after that.”  
This isn’t all true. I know she went through Hell to get to Wall Maria. She probably went through Hell after that, too. Before her disappearance, I told her everything I learned during the Warrior training, how the titans always went instinctively North to the walls once they were created, how they’d go wherever the most humans were unless they saw one closer. I was just so excited about becoming an honorary Marleyan that I couldn’t stop telling her about it, and every step it took to get there. I think this knowledge must have helped her survive. There’s no way she would have made it to Shiganshina without titan powers, so she must not have gone straight North. She always was clever.  
“What was my life like then? What happened to me?” She sounds so broken. “Bertholdt, I need to know what I’m dreaming about every other night.”  
“You didn’t talk about what was going on very often.” It’s true. She never told me what happened, exactly. “We were friends. You used to come over all the time. You always had a few bruises, sometimes a few scrapes…” I remember how much pain she was in in those days, all the fear in her eyes. I take a breath to ease the lump in my throat. “Then one night, you knocked on my bedroom window. Your feet and legs were bleeding. There was g—” My voice breaks. I can’t make myself tell her that there was glass in her skin.  
“What then?”  
“Then… you stayed the night at my house and you made me promise not to tell. We were just kids, so I agreed. You stayed with me a lot after that.”  
“And when did I… what happened? Did I leave?”  
“You must have,” I said it because I don’t know what else to tell her. I can’t tell her about Liberio, much less explain banishment. “You stopped coming around, and they told me you got sick and didn’t make it.” I cringe. Hopefully she assumes I meant her parents were the ones that told me. In truth, I started asking around to see if anybody had seen her. Reiner and I had thought she had run away. That’s when a Marleyan soldier finally told me the lie I had believed until so recently. “I don’t know what happened after that.”  
The knot in her back is finally worked out. I move on to another and begin to work it loose.  
“I missed you,” she says softly. “I didn’t know it before, but I missed you.”  
“I missed you, too.”  
Maybe if they hadn’t sent her away, we would be sharing a bed in Liberio right now. Somehow, I don’t think I would have been able to leave her behind when the time came. Someone else would be the Colossal Titan, someone else would be stained with the sin I bare. Instead, I am inside the walls on Paradis, terrified of what is to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys could PLEASE give me some feedback, that would be wonderful. I'm sorry I abandoned this for a bit, I was taking 18 hours last semester, several of which were intensive classes.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much smut. Just a young and in love couple doing what couples sometimes do. This is a light chapter, since things go back to actual plot afterwards. They're honestly pretty cute together this chapter.

                Morning came quicker than you had hoped. You hadn’t cared last night about what would happen after everything. After all, whatever would happen in the morning was a little later on, and you couldn’t quite bring yourself to worry. Somehow, the future doesn’t scare you anymore. Maybe it’s because a part of your future is currently splayed out in the bed beside you.

                Actually, beside you is a bit of a liberal phrase… really, more like completely wrong.

                He’s simultaneously wrapped around you and on top of you. You’re laying on your back, both of you still naked from the activities of the last night, and his body is on top of yours. His arms encircle your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breath is warm against your collarbones. You turn your head slightly, pressing a kiss to his temple. When you breathe in, you are met with the scent of summer and oak trees.

                He sighs and shifts slightly on top of you, a signal that he is beginning to wake. That’s when you realize how his lower half is positioned. One of his legs is between yours, his thigh meeting the apex of your legs. As he moves, his leg does too, pressing firmly against you.

                You can’t help but gasp, arousal coursing through you. You curse your body for it’s reaction to such a simple and unintentional touch.

                “Are you okay?” He asks immediately upon hearing the gasp, instantly awake and alert. He is propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you in concern. It causes him to shift against you again, and you shudder. You can practically feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, can feel your clit swelling.

                “Y-your leg,” you say, and even to you, your voice sounds meek. You’re embarrassed, you can’t help it.

                “What?” He sounds confused for a moment. His eyes scan over your face, and you can see the moment when he comprehends what you mean.

                And then he grins, much to your surprise.

                “You mean this one?” He moves it away from you, leaving you in both relief and despair as the source of the problem is removed. It’s short lived as he deliberately moves it back into place, pressing against you insistently. You breathe in sharply. “What about it?” He asks.

                To say you’re shocked would be an understatement. Shy, reserved Bertholdt, teasing you in this way? You wouldn’t have believed it possible, yet here he is, smiling down at you, his grin replaced with a small smile. He slowly begins to move against you, shifting into a more convenient position. You feel his cock hardening against your hip, growing thick and heavy. You can see the want in his eyes, and you can’t help it—you whimper.

                That’s when he stops, much to your frustration. He leans down, kissing your neck and sucking and nipping a mark into one of the few patches of skin he hadn’t already claimed the night before. Then he sits up, looking down at you with what you can only describe as reverence.

                “Bertholdt,” you murmur.

                He seems to take it as a signal. His hands skim over your hips, up the sides of your waist, slowly coming up to cup your breasts. He palms them lightly, squeezing them gently. He runs the pad of his thumbs over the erect nipples, and you arch into the touch.

                “Th-this isn’t like you,” you state, although you hope he won’t stop.

                “I just r-really like seeing you like this,” he replies, averting his eyes.

                “I don’t know how you do this to me, but I love it. Please don’t stop,” you plead, hoping you don’t sound too desperate. His eyes snap back to yours, relief evident in them. However, he doesn’t go back to what he was doing. Instead, his hands go down to your hips. He guides them so that they roll against him, effectively grinding you against his thigh instead of grinding his thigh against you. It’s incredibly erotic, and he stares down at you as he does this. You find yourself rolling your hips of your own accord, making it easier for his hands to help guide you. A moan rises from deep in your chest, and he takes a deep breath at the sound, eyes glazing over for a moment.

                “Bertholdt, please— please, I need you—” You’re getting close. The familiar tension is starting to build, and you need release soon. You reach down and take his cock in your hand, slowly pumping up and down the shaft. He bucks into the touch, lips parting slightly. You don’t need to say anything more as he quickly pulls away from you, leaving your core exposed to the cool air of the room. You immediately miss the feeling of him against you. You look down as he moves to kneel between your legs, noting the shining wet spot on his thigh. He follows your gaze and touches the spot with his fingertips, before looking back at you. The same fingers find their way between your legs.

                “You’re so wet,” he says, his tone almost awed. His fingertips circle your entrance before tracing up the inner lips until they reach your clit. He rolls the bundle of nerves gently between his fingertips, eliciting a gasp from you.

                “H-how are you so good at this?”

                “I think about doing this to you a lot,” he admits sheepishly. A breathy laugh escapes you.

                “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

                “You think about me a lot?” He asks. His voice is slightly husky, and you can hear the need in it. His fingertips are back at your hole, skimming over it before slowly easing one inside. You groan, trying to focus your thoughts as he does this. He liked hearing that you thought about him.

                “A-all the time.” That earns you another finger, which is still not nearly enough. You roll your hips to take them deeper into you. “I dream about it sometimes.” That earns you his thumb circling your clit. “ _Bertholdt—_ ” You no longer care how desperate you sound. He seals his lips against yours, kissing you breathless. A third finger breaches you, and you let out a sort of keening whine. The stretching of your walls feels wonderful, despite the slight discomfort.

                “I love it when you say my name.” His voice is strained, and you realize he’s holding back. You reach down to take him in your hand again, but he shakes his head and pins your wrist to the mattress. “I want to make you feel good,” he says by way of explanation.

                “Bertholdt, I need you, please—” He goes back to thrusting his fingers in and out at a leisurely pace. “I need _you_ ,” you’re begging, hoping he understands because you can’t seem to get the words out. He seems to get the message, because he promptly removes his fingers and wraps them around his cock, slicking himself up with a combination of his precum and your wetness. It’s incredibly sexy, and you can feel his eyes on you as he does this. You meet his gaze. “Bertholdt,” you plead, and he lines the head of his cock up with your entrance and pushes in in one long stroke. He buries himself to the hilt, until his pelvis meets yours, and as he does his cock slides against a spot inside of you that makes your head spin. After all of the things he’s done to you, how worked up he’s gotten you with his grinding and his fingers, that singular thrust nearly pushes you over the edge—but it’s the deep, primal groan that escapes him as he enters you that does it.

                You’re moaning, you’re sure of it, but you’re so caught up in the feeling spreading from between your legs to the rest of your body that you don’t seem to really hear it. There’s too much blood rushing in your ears to hear anything after that single sound that erupted from the beautiful man on top of you. Your walls are spasming, clenching around him so hard that it almost hurts, your thighs quivering, your toes curling. Your back is arching upwards, and he is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to him as he thrusts in and out of you, long rolling thrusts that keep you floating on this high for as long as possible. Finally, you came down. “B-B-Bertholdt—” You were hypersensitive, wonderfully so.

                There’s a knock on the door, and he stills. Your eyes widen, and his do as well.

                “H-hello?” Bertholdt calls out.

                “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” You hear Krista’s voice. You relax. If it’s only Krista, then that means you’re not in trouble.

                “Y-yeah, everything’s f-fine—”

                “I told you,” you hear Ymir say to Krista. “Judging by the sound of it, they’re more than fine.”

                You don’t know what made you do it. Maybe it was because Bertholdt had grown still on top of you, maybe it was the mocking tone in Ymir’s voice that made you do it. “Fuck off.” You called irritably, and bucked your hips several times in quick succession.

                “ _Fuck!_ ” Bertholdt grunts, and you hear the footsteps outside the door quickly move away. You slowed your bucking to a lazy pace. “N-Noah! I c-can’t believe you d-did that!”

                “Did what?” You asked, grinning. He looks irritated for a moment, but then you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles there, and the look is gone as his eyes go glassy.

                “I almost lost control, Noah.” He sounds stern.

                “Just pull out when you do,” you replied. You really wanted to make him cum now. You wanted to see the ecstasy on his face.

                “That’s not what I meant,” he said, although his face is red.

                “What did you mean?” You asked, perplexed, and irritated that he still wasn’t moving.

                “I mean I might go too fast or hard, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

                You pictured it then, him fucking you hard and fast, fucking you senseless—

                “Do it, please, _do it_.”

                “W-what?!”

                “I’ll tell you if it hurts, just please, _please do it_ —” You were begging again. You reached up to push the hair away from his face. “Bertholdt, please—”

                He took a deep breath and began to thrust, short and fast strokes that filled the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin. It was not the loving tenderness from before, it was primal and filled with a sense of urgency. It felt like he was trying to fuck you in half, and you loved every second of it. You held on for dear life, digging your fingertips into his back and dragging them down, thankful for your short blunt nails because you would surely have drawn blood otherwise. Your bodies seemed to glide together, slick with sweat. His hands went down to grasp your hips, to hold them in place as he fucked you without restraint. You were certain there would be bruises there later, and you questioned whether you would be able to walk straight for the next few days.

                There was no pause in the grunts and gasps coming from the man on top of you. You seemed unable to stop as well, incoherent words streaming from your lips. Losing yourself like this was electrifying, seeing Bertholdt losing himself even more so.

                He nipped at your neck, rougher than before, and you jolted slightly. You hoped it would leave a mark, although you were unsure of how many already peppered your neck. Then he was kissing you, hard, sucking your lower lip between his, grazing his teeth over it. His tongue parted your lips, delving into your mouth. You tried to keep up with his frenzied pace as his kiss completely dominated your mouth. This was not making love—this was fucking.

                You held tighter to him, feeling yourself nearing that peak again. It wasn’t the slow build from before, this felt more wild, sharper somehow. You pulled away to break for air. “Yes, oh _fuck_ , yes— harder, _please_ , oh fuck— I’m gonna cum, Bertholdt, _I’m gonna c_ —” He kissed you, hard, as you reached your limit. The spasms were stronger than before, and you were spent, completely and utterly spent, when he pulled out less than a minute later. He reached down and took his cock in hand, pumping it rapidly as he threw his head back. His lips parted and his eyelids fluttered shut as he groaned, shooting his seed onto your torso in thick white ropes. The last string connected the two of you for a few seconds, stretching tenuously between the head of his cock and the underside of your breasts before the final wave of his orgasm caused it to break away. The pure look of pleasure on his face triggered a small aftershock in you, your walls clenching slightly only to find that there was nothing to tighten around.

                He flopped down beside you, both of you spent for the time being. He pulled the corner of the sheet up and cleaned off your stomach. “We need to wash the sheets anyway,” he said, mostly to himself. You hummed in agreement, scooting up and putting your arm around him. He took the cue and laid his head on your chest, smiling contently. He always seemed to hold you—you thought it might be nice to do the same for him, and he clearly appreciated it. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. The two of you stayed like that for some time afterwards, content to enjoy the afterglow together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel dirty ._.  
> On another note, I love putting Bertholdt as the kind of person who is occasionally playful. He strikes me as the type who could be a total dork when he's happy. I also think that since he's so reserved most of the time, there would be moments when he kind of just 'lets go' when he's in private, and I wanted him and Noah to have one of those moments together, thus their respective antics in this chapter.


	23. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bridge chapter.

When you went downstairs that morning, you weren’t expecting a somber greeting. Unfortunately, each face you saw looked glum.

                “We have a mission. One month’s time.” Reiner said as he came up to both of you. A crease had formed between his brows as he frowned, staring up at Bertholdt with a sternness you hadn’t seen before. “And we need to talk about how thin the walls in this castle are, Bertholdt.”

                Instantly, your cheeks began to burn.

                “R-Reiner!” Bertl stuttered, staring down at the other man in shock and embarrassment.

                “Have you lost your mind?” Reiner replied, something similar to anger beginning to show on his face. No, not similar to anger… actual anger. After a long moment, in which you feared he might actually strike Bertholdt, he walked away, gesturing for Bertholdt to follow him. You began to follow as well, only for Bertholdt to stop you. Gently placing his hands on your shoulders, he glanced around. Seeing that nobody was looking, he leaned in and whispered to you.

                “I’ll find you later. Trust me. You don’t want to be around him right now.” He pulled away to look at you, his light green eyes were piercing, his lips set into a grim line. He looked almost pained, and you would have given anything to take it away from him. You had no idea what was going on with those two.

                _Their warrior mission is at stake. Their… what?_

You shook the thought off, feeling vaguely disturbed, and you felt the beginning of a headache starting to form behind your eyes. You began to ask Bertholdt if you’d see him later, only to realize that the man was already following Reiner out of the room. Ignoring the dull ache in your head, you went to sit near Ymir and Krista. Sitting across from the two girls, you found that you had trouble making eye contact with them after your stunt earlier that morning. But oh, how it had been worth it. When you finally glanced up, you saw Ymir staring at you with a look of amusement. However, her eyes weren’t meeting your own, and you realized that she was staring at your neck. It was then that you remembered the numerous marks Bertholdt had left there. You readjusted your collar self-consciously before buttoning the top button of your blouse so that they would be better hidden.

“Are you nervous, Noah?” Krista asked, breaking the long silence that had stretched out between the three of you. “About the mission?”

                Your mind wandered into the past. Not so long ago, you had faced the titans in Trost District. It was an experience you weren’t in a hurry to repeat, not that you didn’t know the time would come when you would have to face them once again. Still, the image of their vacant gazes haunted you. The image of Elaine’s corpse made the thought that much worse.

                “Terrified.” You said, not bothering to filter your words. You remembered how after you had found her body, you couldn’t stop screaming. Something in you had broken.

_“Run as fast as you can,” a man’s voice echoed in the back of your mind, “and maybe you’ll reach the walls.”_

For the second time that morning, you shook off the thoughts. This time, however, they lingered for a second longer than you were used to before you forgot them again. It was infuriating. You had these flashes of memory often, but unfortunately, you forgot them again almost immediately after they happened. Yet you were usually aware that they had happened. They were happening more and more often now, though, and you wondered what that could mean for you. It was disturbing. It made you restless.

                “I’m going for a run.” You stated, standing. Running helped you ground yourself, although your last run had proven to be a mistake. “Would you two like to come with me? After all, we have a mission in a month. We should stay in shape.”

                “You just want someone to run with you. You don’t care about the mission.” Ymir replied.

                “I care about this mission a lot.” You replied. After all, you had to come home to Bertholdt, and he had to come home to you. “And you should, too.”

                “She’s right, Ymir. I’m going with her.” Krista said, standing. You chuckled as Ymir grumbled and stood as well, always reluctant to leave Krista’s side. You led the way out of the castle, onto the grounds.

                “It’s a shame we can’t go to town,” you said sadly, looking at the dirt path leading from the castle into the town beyond wistfully.

                “That’s like 10 miles away, Noah.” Ymir said, narrowing her eyes at you.

                “12.” You answered as you pushed the front door open and broke into a jog.

                An hour later, the three of you sat beneath a tree on the castle grounds.

                “Are you okay?” Krista finally asked.

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well… after the battle in Trost… and a week ago, when you went for a run…”

                “She won’t tell us anything, Krista. She’s like you. Miss perfect.”

                That actually hurt you a bit. It was true, you didn’t like to talk about the things you were thinking or feeling. The truth of the matter was that you felt like nobody would really understand your situation.

                “I’m alright, but I wasn’t when I took that run. I’m sorry if I scared you. It wasn’t my intention.” You answered, feeling like that much you could at least be honest about. “What really gets me is Marco,” you said, staring down at your hands. “He was in the top 10 and he still… they still got him.”

                You were met with silence. When you looked up, both of the other girls looked grim, and neither answered. After all, what could be said in response that would change anything? Chances are that it was something both of them had been thinking as well.

                “I’m so… I’m so happy that both of you made it.” You said, and it was the truth. “Please, be careful during this next mission.”

                “We will be. You have to be careful, too, though.” Krista said, sounding almost stern. That tone coming from the tiny woman almost made you laugh.

                “I will be. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away for so long. I promise that I'll update more frequently now. My inspiration came back in a rush, so here I am! I hope someone is still reading, haha... Let me know if you're out there, y'all. I'm serious. Please comment down below if you're still reading.


	24. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Bertholdt's point of view.

                I was in a happy daze as we got dressed this morning. Sure, the fabric of my shirt irritated the scratches on my back, and I saw Noah wince as she touched a spot on her hips where my fingertips left bruises. I wondered then if she would regret what we’d done, but then her eyes met mine and she _smiled_ and I knew she was still okay. I knew that she was happy with what had happened last night, as well as what had happened mere minutes before.

                I couldn’t stop staring at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the way the tired circles beneath her eyes contrasted with the healthy glow of her skin, nor could I take them away from the wild rat’s nest of her hair as she worked to brush it out. Mostly, I was transfixed by the deep reddish-purple bruises on her neck. The things I caused her were entrancing to me. The marks on her neck especially, as some primal part of me deep within was pleased to have marked her as mine. Acknowledging it even to myself was embarrassing. My cheeks burned.

                “Bertl?”

                “Yes?”

                “You’re blushing,” she says, and I can tell she’s curious.

                “It’s nothing. Y-you’re just… beautiful.” And she was. I could see the doubt in her eyes though. I wondered what she was thinking. “But you don’t think so?” I phrased it as a question.

                “You think I’m pretty even though I have so many scars?”

                Last night, I was too distracted to care about any of them. Looking back, I remembered the scars marring her legs, the scars that appeared frequently elsewhere. I remembered the burn scar on her stomach. I had never seen the full extent of the pain her father caused her, but now it was laid out like a map before me.

               “I think you’re perfect,” I tell her. I mean it. The color rises in her cheeks, and I almost laugh at the idea of the two of us blushing around each other even after what had happened last night and this morning. Instead, I change the subject. “Let’s go get breakfast. You’re bound to be hungry.”

                She nods rather enthusiastically at that, putting down the hairbrush now that the tangles are finally gone. We head downstairs afterwards. I have to slow down to match her walking pace, her legs are so short. She’s so tiny, and I had never truly thought of just how small she is. The top of her head barely reaches my chest. Yet when she runs, she somehow manages to outrun me.

                We are met immediately by Reiner once we reach the bottom of the staircase. He crosses the room, and it’s like seeing a storm in the distance growing closer and closer. This is the Reiner who is a warrior, not a soldier, and I almost move to block him from getting too close to Noah, even though I logically know he wouldn’t even think of harming her.

                “We have a mission. One month’s time.” Reiner said as he reached us. “And we need to talk about how thin the walls in this castle are, Bertholdt.”

                “R-Reiner!” I say, and I can feel my cheeks beginning to burn. Part of me is embarrassed, and another part of me worries about Noah’s reputation. I don’t care about my own reputation. I simply need the others to believe that I’m just like one of them. Loud sex with a beautiful girl won’t do anything to blow my cover.

                “Have you lost your mind?” Reiner asks, and although I know he would never strike either of us, Noah seems to have subconsciously gone into a slightly defensive stance beside me. I suspect that, on some level, she remembers how it feels to be hurt. The idea that she thinks that she has to defend either of us makes me grit my teeth, and I have to consciously unlock my jaw. Thankfully, she is too focused on Reiner to notice.

                Reiner gestures for me to follow him, and I know that this is a conversation about our status as warriors and our role in the coming mission. So when Noah begins to follow, I stop her. I glance around, see that nobody is looking, and I whisper to her that I’ll find her later, and that she doesn’t want to be around Reiner right now. I tell her this, and although it is true, I feel guilty for not telling her the entire truth. The truth about our mission. I have to hide this crucial part of my life from her.

                Then something strange happens. Her expression goes blank for a moment, then changes briefly to one of alarm—for a second, I almost wonder if she’s somehow figured it out—but then it turns to confusion. She visibly shakes it off, a quick shaking of her head, as if she is nonverbally saying ‘no’. I hate to leave her like this, but I force myself to follow Reiner.

                He leads me out into the grounds, down to the stables. First he checks to see if anyone is in any of the stalls. Then he turns and stares me down, his golden eyes fixed on me in a sharp gaze.

                “We need to get a message to Annie somehow. Tell her the day and time of the mission.” Reiner begins. I already know this. “I’ll go. If you go, Noah will notice.”

                “If you go, other people will notice.” I point out.

                “I’ll go tonight, after everyone is asleep. Nobody will think anything of it if I come back tomorrow afternoon and say I was training.”

                “Erwin might.”

                “He’s less of a risk than Noah. If you go missing, it’ll be noticed for sure. You two are always together. You think that that won’t increase after what you two just did? She won’t stop at wondering where you are, she’ll look for you. That means she’ll ask questions, and then others will start to wonder. It has to be me.”

                “You’re right.” I’m reluctant to admit it. The truth is that I want to see Annie. I used to have feelings for her, but this isn’t why I want to see her. I want to see her to make sure she’s still okay. After all, she’s one of us. “Just tell me how she is when you get back,” I say.

                “I will. And Bertholdt… I know you want her to come back with us. I do, too, but she can’t.”

                “What do you mean?” I ask, perhaps a little coldly.

                “I mean that we’re going to have our hands full getting Eren back to Marley as it is. It will only get worse if we have to transport more than one person. Besides… you do know that that’s not Amara, right?”

                “She is though. Reiner… she has the piece of steel I gave her. It still has our initials on it. And I’m pretty sure it’s strung on our string.”

                “On your what?” He asks.

                “The strings of fate legend. The legend says that people are bound to each other by invisible strings that bring them together. When we were little, she got a piece of cord and tied it around our pinky fingers. I’d almost forgotten.”

                “Okay, so say this is Amara… Bertholdt, that means she was exiled. They won’t let her come back, even if we brought her back.”

                “If we bring them the Founding Titan, they might. They wouldn’t say no to their warriors if we’re successful.”

                “Then we have to be certain to get them both on the first try. If we only get Eren, the military will torture Noah for information. There’s no question about that. But if we get only Noah, she may not be allowed back in and our powers might be passed on before our ‘tenure’ is up.”

                “Unless Annie manages to get Eren on her own. Then we could get Noah without blowing our cover until that moment.”

                “You really think she’ll come with us willingly? We killed so many people. Think. We killed her _mother._ ” Reiner points this out and I shake my head.

                “Then we take her by force if she refuses. There’s no future for her on this island.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. I never want to force her into anything, there’s been far too much ‘force’ in her life.

                “I’ll have to be the one to carry her. She’ll overheat if you do.”

                “Just… be careful with her.” I say this, and Reiner looks at me with pity.

                “You have it that bad for her?”

                “Worse.” I answer. It’s painfully true.

                As promised, I find her later. However, she’s not in the castle. When I finally find her, she’s talking with Ymir and Krista beneath a tree on the grounds. I approach, and as I do, her stomach growls loudly. She blushes and Krista looks at her with something like concern.

                “You didn’t eat breakfast, did you?” I ask. The look on her face is answer enough.

                “I got distracted.” She answers, looking somewhat embarrassed.

                “So you went for a run?” I ask, and again, I don’t need confirmation. “Come on. It’s almost lunch time.” I reach down to help her up, and she takes my hand. My own dwarfs hers. I drop her hand as soon as she is up, conscious of Ymir and Krista’s eyes on us. I wait for her to get her bearings before I begin to walk. Once we are far enough away, I take her hand again.

                “I love you,” I tell her. I know that the timing for this statement is odd, but after the conversation with Reiner before, I feel the need to tell her. It feels like a promise, and in a way, it is.

                “I love you, too.” She replies, looking vaguely concerned. “Bertl, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

                “Reiner is on edge and thinks I shouldn’t get attached to anyone.”

                “Why on earth would he say that?”

                “Because he’s worried that if something happens during one of our missions, I won’t be able to handle it.” I lie to her so easily. In a way, I’ve been lying to her for three years now, the entire time we’ve been in the military together.

                “That’s stupid.” She says bluntly.

                “It is.” I agree. I’ve been attached since I met her. Before I knew who she really was, her resemblance to my best friend growing up had ensured that I would care for her on some level. Before we walk in to the castle, I stop just outside the door. On impulse, I pull her to me and kiss her. I have to bend down to do it, and she stands on tip-toe to kiss me back. I’m not an impulsive man, but she brings it out in me, and part of me is still worried I’ll lose her during this next mission, despite knowing Annie won’t do anything to hurt her. It occurs to me that I don’t have that long with her to begin with. Ymir’s curse is waiting for me. We’ll never grow old together, even though it’s something I desperately want.

                When I end the kiss so that I can breathe properly, I place another kiss on her forehead. I can feel the tears in my eyes, and I blink them away before she can see them.

                “Promise me you’ll come out of this next mission alive.”

                “I promise.” And then she laughs softly. “I just made the same promise to Ymir and Krista.”

                “It’s a good promise.”

                “And you have to come out of this, too.”

                “I will.” I pause, debating whether or not to say what I want to. In the end, I still have very little will of my own, and I chicken out. _For as long as I live,_ _I will always come home to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bertl grows a backbone when the reader is concerned. <3
> 
> If anyone wants a good song for this fic, 'Iris' by Goo Goo Dolls is a good one. I listen to it frequently these days when I'm having writer's block for this fic.


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